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MARGARET  DAVIS,  TUTOR. 
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She  went  Hying  after  him,  down  the  long  drive  and  out  into  the  road. 
—  Page  L'31. 


MARGARET  DAVIS,  TUTOR 


BY 


ANNA   CHAPIN    RAY 

AUTHOR  or  "HALF  A  DOZEN  BOYS,"  "HALF  A  DOZEN  GIRLS,' 
"  THE  CADETS  OF  FLEMMING  HALL,"       » 
"!N  BLUE  CREEK  CANON" 


NEW  YORK :  46  EAST  I4TH  STREET 
THOMAS   Y.    CROWELL   &   CO. 

BOSTON  :   lOO  PURCHASE  STREET 


COPYRIGHT,  1893, 
BY  T.  Y.  CROWKLL  &  CO. 


Typography  by  J.  S.  Gushing  &  Co. 
Presswork  by  S.  J.  Parkhill  &  Co. 


TO 
MY     TWO     REAL     CHARACTERS 

Uanfortfj 

FRIEND,    PUPIL,    AND    CRITIC 
AND 

ILattite 

THE    FAITHFUL    COMPANION 

WHO    FELL    ASLEEP    JUST    AFTER    THIS 

LITTLE    STORY    WAS    WRITTEN 


2072272 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP.  PAGE 

I.  THE  TWINS 9 

II.  THE  MESSAGE  or  THE  ROSES     ....  28 

III.  NEW  FRIENDS 52 

IV.  MARGARET  AND  HER  PUPILS       ....  76 
V.  BOBBIE'S  EXPLORATIONS     .....  96 

VI.  LADDIE'S  CHAMPION    ......  121 

VII.  LADDIE  STUDIES  THEOLOGY        ....  138 

VIII.  IN  THE  FIRELIGHT       .         .         .         .         .         .  154 

IX.  DANFORTH 172 

X.  HIDE  AND  SEEK  .         .         .         .  '       .         .         .  192 

XI.  JACK'S  SKATING  .......  211 

XII.  THE  MEETING  OP  OLD  FRIENDS          .         .         .  227 

XIII.  BROTHER  JENKINS 244 

XIV.  DANFORTH'S  ROMANCE 262 

XV.  u  FACILIS  DESCENSUS  AVERNI  "  .         .         .         .  280 

XVI.  DUKE  AND  DANFORTH 296 

XVII.  THE  REPEATED  MESSAGE 314 

XVIII.  DOWN  BY  THE  SKA 332 

XIX.  JUNE  ROSES 348 

7 


MARGARET   DAVIS,  TUTOR. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE   TWINS. 

" '  HE  may  have  been  little,  or  he  may  have  been  tall, 
But  his  tale  is  so  sad,  you  will  weep  for  it  all, 
And  it  happened  along  of  a  bat  and  a  ball. 
Boo-hoo !  Boo-hoo  1 ' " 

sang  Jack  teasingly.  "  That  fits  your  case  pretty 
well,  Dan ;  but  I  don't  see  any  use  in  your  being 
so  mortally  glum  about  it." 

Danforth  Spaulding  had  been  lounging  in  one 
of  the  deep  window-seats  of  his  room,  moodily 
twisting  the  fringe  of  the  dimity  curtain ;  but  at 
his  brother's  last  words,  he  abruptly  sat  up  and 
faced  him,  as  he  said,  with  a  sudden  flash  of 
anger,  — 

"  Can't  you  let  me  alone  one  single  minute, 
Jack?  There's  no  use  in  hitting  a  fellow  when 
he's  down ;  and  I'm  in  enough  of  a  scrape  as  'tis, 
without  your  crowing  over  me." 

9 


10  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"  There  isn't  any  scrape  about  it,  only  you  do 
take  things  so  hard,"  declared  Jack,  who  sat  on 
the  edge  of  the  table,  swinging  his  heels  as  he 
talked.  "'Twas  nothing  but  a  frolic,  and  old 
Duffy  ought  to  know  it  wasn't.  You  aren't  the 
fellow  to  mean  to  chuck  a  ball  through  his 
window  and  upset  all  the  things  on  his  desk,  and 
you'd  have  told  him  so,  if  you'd  had  half  the 
spunk  of  a  baby  mosquito."  Jack  brought  his 
heels  together  with  an  emphatic  click ;  then  he 
went  on,  in  a  tone  of  mingled  annoyance  and 
accusation :  "  But  that's  the  way  it  always  is ;  as 
soon  as  Duffy  went  for  you,  you  turned  all  colors 
at  once,  and  stammered,  and  acted  scared  out  of 
your  seventeen  senses.  Of  course  he  came  down 
on  you  all  the  worse,  after  that,  for  he  thought 
you  were  a  sneak  that  wouldn't  take  the  conse- 
quences of  his  sins ;  and  I  don't  much  blame 
him,  I  declare  I  don't." 

"  Oh  don't,  Jack ! "  remonstrated  the  culprit 
feebly,  while  his  face  flushed  and  his  eyes  grew 
large  and  dark,  as  if  the  tears  were  not  far  away. 

"Yes,  I  know;  but  it's  so,  every  word  of  it," 
said  Jack  rather  impatiently,  for  he  was  often 
sorely  tried  by  his  twin  brother's  lack  of  self- 
assertion.  "  You  don't  do  half  the  things .  the 


THE  TWINS.  11 

rest  of  us  can,  and  come  out  all  right;  but  you 
always  will  get  rattled  in  the  wrong  place,  and 
let  Duffy  see  just  what  you've  been  about.  Then 
when  he  gets  after  you,  you  act  as  if  you  were 
frightened  to  death.  Now,  I  think  the  only  way 
for  a  fellow  to  do,  when  he  gets  into  a  corner,  is 
to  hold  up  his  head  like  a  man,  and  take  what's 
given  him,  without  a  grumble.  Old  Duffy  likes 
you  better,  if  you  do,  and  he  isn't  half  as  apt  to 
go  for  you  next  time.  He's  sort  of  used  to  scold- 
ing you,  somehow,  and  he  keeps  at  it.  If  you 
wouldn't  be  so  everlastingly  meek  about  it,  he'd 
let  you  off  easier;  but  now  he's  given  you  a 
thrashing,  and  sent  a  note  home  to  grandpa." 

The  charge  was  in  part  deserved,  and  Jack  felt 
that  right  was  upon  his  side,  so  he  rounded  out 
his  criticism  with  the  unsparing  frankness  of  boy- 
hood. Then,  when  he  glanced  at  Danforth  again, 
his  conscience  suddenly  smote  him.  The  two  boys, 
as  unlike  as  twins  often  are,  were  as  fond  of  each 
other  as  brothers  could  possibly  be ;  and  although 
Jack  never  hesitated  to  express  his  own  opinion 
of  his  brother's  doings,  he  was  quick  to  resent 
even  the  suspicion  of  blame  or  reproof  from  any- 
one else.  And  now  Danforth  sat  curled  up  in 
a  corner  of  the  window-seat,  biting  his  lips  to 


12  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

steady  them  and  digging  his  clenched  hands  deep 
down  into  his  pockets,  to  keep  from  showing,  by 
some  involuntary  motion,  how  he  was  writhing 
under  the  scorn  in  Jack's  voice,  while  he  looked, 
as  he  felt,  a  picture  of  abject  misery.  Jack 
watched  him,  for  a  moment,  out  of  the  corners  of 
his  eyes ;  then  he  slid  down  from  the  table  and 
began  to  wander  up  and  down  the  room  in  a 
series  of  curves  which  gradually  brought  him 
nearer  and  nearer  his  brother  in  the  window.  At 
length  he  paused  at  Danforth's  side. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  be  hard  on  you,  Dan,"  he  said 
more  gently,  as  he  rested  one  small  brown  hand 
on  his  brother's  shoulder.  "I  only  hate  to  see 
you  keep  getting  thrashed  for  something  that 
isn't  your  fault.  You  need  more  bones  in  you, 
somehow ;  that's  all.  It's  because  you're  such  a 
good  fellow  that  I  care,  you  see.  But  how  that 
ink  did  fly,  and  how  funny  Duffy  did  look,  mad 
as  a  yellow-jacket,  and  with  a  great  black  smooch 
on  his  cheek!"  And  Jack  laughed  so  uproar- 
iously at  the  recollection,  that  even  his  brother 
smiled.  It  was  a  pale  and  watery  smile,  but 
Jack  heralded  it  with  rapture,  for  it  was  a  sign 
that  the  cloud  was  passing.  "  'Twas  no  end  of  a 
shame,"  he  continued,  as  his  hand  closed  upon 


THE  TWINS.  13 

his  brother's  palm  which  was  red  and  swollen,  as 
if  from  a  recent  bruise ;  "  'twas  a  perfect  shame 
for  him  to  hit  you  so.  He  never  knows  what  he's 
about,  when  he's  mad,  and  he  lays  it  on  harder 
than  he  means  to.  But,  I  say,  I'll  go  and  get 
some  of  that  stuff  of  Uncle  Jerry's,  and  maybe 
'twill  feel  better." 

"  I  don't  mind  the  hurt,"  said  Danforth  sturdily, 
as,  yielding  to  his  brother's  encouragement,  he 
sat  up  and  shook  himself ;  "  that  will  be  all  right 
by  to-morrow ;  but  I  hate  to  go  back  into  school 
again,  for  grandpa  says  I  must  apologize  before 
all  the  fellows,  and  I  know  Duffy  will  read  me  a 
sermon." 

"  Grandpa's  all  upset  over  it,"  observed  Jack 
not  too  consolingly.  "  He  says  no  Atherton  was 
ever  whipped  in  school  before,  and  it's  brought 
disgrace  on  the  family  name.  I  shouted  at  him 
that  we  weren't  Athertons,  we  were  Spauldings ; 
but  he  didn't  hear,  for  he'd  dropped  his  trumpet 
just  then,  and  grandma  looked  so  shocked  that 
I  didn't  dare  say  it  over." 

"  I  wish  grandpa  wouldn't  be  quite  so  hard  on 
us,"  said  Danforth,  turning  despondent  once 
more.  "  He  always  acts  as  if  boys  in  his  day 
were  never  in  a  scrape ;  and  I  heard  him  telling 


14  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

grandma  that  he  didn't  see  what  to  do  with  us 
next.  If  only  papa  —  " 

"But  papa  isn't,"  responded  Jack  promptly. 
"  Papa's  in  India,  and  we're  here.  And  even  if 
he  weren't,  Dan,  we've  come  to  where  we  must 
fight  our  own  battles;  we  aren't  babies  any 
longer,  we're  almost  men.  But  wait  till  Uncle 
Jerry  gets  home,  and  then  he'll  straighten  it  all 
out,"  he  added  hopefully,  for  Uncle  Jerry  was 
the  refuge  of  the  boys  in  times  of  trouble. 

But  in  the  meantime  Uncle  Jerry  had  come 
home,  and  a  council  was  even  then  being  held 
down-stairs.  Bobbie,  as  the  boys  called  their 
younger  sister  Roberta,  had  been  ignominiously 
dismissed  from  the  drawing-room;  not  at  all  to 
her  own  satisfaction,  however,  for  she  was  curious 
to  hear  what  was  to  be  the  outcome  of  "  poor 
Dan's  awful  scrape,"  as  she  termed  it,  and  more- 
over she  was  loyally  desirous  of  speaking  a  word 
for  her  brothers,  if  the  tide  of  feeling  seemed  to 
turn  against  them.  But  Grandpa  Atherton  had 
ordered  her  from  the  room ;  and  Bobbie  was  too 
honorable  to  linger  in  the  hall,  where  she  could 
easily  have  overheard  all  that  was  said,  thanks  to 
her  grandfather's  extreme  deafness,  which  effectu- 
ally put  an  end  to  the  privacy  of  the  family  con- 
claves. 


THE   TWINS.  15 

It  was  a  strangely  assorted  family  circle  who 
lived  in  the  old  Atherton  house.  Years  ago,  the 
old  place  had  been  gay  with  the  busy  life  of  a 
large  family  of  children.  Then,  for  a  time,  the 
childhood  had  gone  out  from  it,  and  it  was  not 
until  a  new  generation  came  on,  that  the  echoes 
of  past  days  were  wakened  once  again.  Life  in 
an  old  family  house,  even  the  plainest,  is  fuller 
and  richer,  oftentimes,  than  in  the  finest  mansion 
of  last  year's  building.  Each  nook  and  corner 
has  its  unspoken  story,  and  each  chair  and  table 
can  set  one  dreaming  of  the  past.  If  we  but  think 
of  it,  the  very  air  of  the  rooms  about  us  is  haunted 
with  the  shadows  of  former  days,  who  walk  over 
and  guard  us,  their  children  of  later  years. 

Old  Captain  Atherton  had  built  this  house  for 
his  bride,  when  the  present  century  was  still 
young.  In  those  far-off  days,  it  was  no  matter 
of  a  few  weeks  to  plan  and  execute  the  building 
of  a  house  ;  but  when  at  last  it  was  done,  and  the 
furniture,  ordered  from  France  and  England,  was 
arranged  in  its  place,  no  bride  could  have  been 
brought  home  to  a  richer,  more  sumptuous  dwell- 
ing. But  not  even  the  beauty  of  her  home,  not 
even  her  young  husband's  devotion  could  prolong 
the  life  of  the  poor  little  bride.  The  same  day 


16  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

which  brought  a  son  into  the  house,  took  away 
the  young  mother ;  and  before  he  realized  that 
the  blow  was  about  to  fall,  Captain  Atherton 
found  himself  alone  in  the  great  house,  alone, 
for  neither  the  servants  nor  his  tiny  son  could 
be  companions  to  him  in  his  loss. 

However,  the  years  which  looked  so  long,  as 
they  stretched  out  before  him,  that  stormy  Decem- 
ber day,  hurried  by,  and  once  again  a  bride  was 
brought  to  the  home.  Captain  Atherton  lived 
to  welcome  his  son's  Avife ;  then,  only  a  few  weeks 
later,  he  quietly  passed  away  to  join  his  own  bride 
of  years  ago,  leaving  his  house  filled  anew  with 
the  gladness  of  young  married  life. 

Fifty  years  had  passed  since  then,  and  the  bride 
and  groom  had  become  old  people,  though  they 
were  still  living  in  the  unchanged  home.  They 
were  Grandpa  and  Grandma  Atherton,  now ;  and 
the  years  which  had  brought  them  a  flock  of  chil- 
dren, had  taken  them  away  again,  —  all  but  two. 
Grace,  the  oldest  daughter,  had  gone  abroad  for 
a  year,  and  soon  afterwards  she  had  married  an 
English  army  officer ;  while  Gerald,  the  youngest 
of  them  all,  was  living  in  the  old  house,  unmar- 
ried. 

Three  years  before,  the  Atherton  house,  so  long 


THE   TWINS.  17 

quiet,  all  at  once  wakened  into  new  life.  A  let- 
ter had  come  from  far-away  India,  where  Colonel 
Spaulding  was  in  service,  to  tell  them  that  Grace 
and  the  children  would  start  for  home  by  the  next 
steamer,  to  make  them  a  long  visit. 

"I  want  the  children  to  get  acquainted  with 
their  home  and  friends,"  Grace  wrote.  "  They 
have  never  known  any  grandparents,  and  they 
are  disgracefully  ignorant  about  America.  Per- 
haps, if  I  can  find  courage  to  leave  them,  I  shall 
ask  you  to  take  charge  of  them  until  they  are 
educated.  But  I  can  talk  about  that  later,  when 
I  see  you." 

To  ^see  Grace  again,  and  perhaps  to  have  Grace's 
children  for  their  own  !  The  old  people  went  about 
in  a  happy  dream,  while  they  waited  for  the  days 
to  pass  until  the  steamer  should  reach  New  York 
and  Gerald  could  meet  his  sister.  Then  came  a 
sudden  shock  which  left  them  wondering  how  they 
could  ever  have  been  so  happy,  wondering  even 
what  happiness  meant.  On  the  P.  and  O.  steamer, 
soon  after  leaving  Bombay,  Grace  had  been  taken 
seriously  ill,  and,  from  the  first,  the  ship's  doctor 
had  declared  that  there  could  be  but  one  result. 
The  poor  little  woman  had  made  a  brave  fight,  for 
she  was  determined  to  reach  America  alive,  and 


18  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

herself  place  her  children  in  her  parents'  care  ;  but 
it  was  all  in  vain.  She  lingered  until  England 
was  passed,  and  she  was  on  the  Cunarder,  with 
New  York  almost  before  her  eyes ;  but  when  the 
steamer  came  into  port,  Gerald  only  found  three 
motherless  children  who  looked  at  their  stranger 
uncle,  with  fearful,  awe-stricken  eyes,  and  then 
turned  away,  to  cling  to  each  other  and  sob,  in  all 
the  freshness  of  their  loss. 

The  home-coming  had  been  a  sad  one  to  them 
all,  and  for  weeks  the  old  house  had  lain  under 
a  heavy  cloud;  but  little  by  little  they  took  up 
the  threads  of  life  again  and  resumed  their  former 
ways.  It  had  been  arranged  that  until  the  chil- 
dren were  ready  for  college,  they  should  remain 
with  their  grandparents  ;  and,  with  the  easy  adapt- 
ability of  childhood,  they  had  quickly  settled  into 
their  new  surroundings  of  home  and  school.  Long 
before  their  first  year  was  over,  their  Indian  life 
was  a  vague  dream  to  them,  and  they  were  as 
loyal  little  Americans  as  if  they  had  always  dwelt 
under  the  stars  and  stripes.  The  twins  were  fif- 
teen now,  and  Roberta  a  year  and  a  half  younger, 
a  bright,  headstrong,  wilful  little  woman  who  was 
at  once  the  torment  and  delight  of  her  brothers. 
She  was  as  fond  of  them  as  they  were  of  her,  lov- 


THE   TWINS.  19 

ing  Danforth  with  all  the  fervor  of  her  nature, 
while  she  adored  Jack  as  a  superior  being,  in  spite 
of  their  frequent  contests.  When  Jack  teased  her 
beyond  endurance,  she  fled  to  Danforth  for  sym- 
pathy. When  she  was  in  disgrace  for  assaulting 
Danforth's  sensitive  points,  which  happened  at  least 
five  times  a  week,  she  betook  herself  to  Jack,  and 
together  they  plotted  fresh  mischief.  But  when 
an  outside  enemy  threatened  any  one  of  the  trio, 
then  they  ranged  themselves  shoulder  to  shoulder, 
and  fought  for  each  other  and  for  themselves  as 
gallantly  as  their  soldier  father  would  have  done, 
in  their  places. 

And  now  the  outside  foe  had  made  an  attack, 
for  Duffy,  as  the  children  irreverently  termed  Mr. 
Dufferin,  their  teacher,  had  not  only  whipped 
Danforth  for  a  mere  accident,  but  had  carried  war 
into  the  enemy's  camp  by  sending  a  note  to 
Grandpa  Atherton,  requesting  the  old  man  to 
uphold  his  discipline,  and  add  a  private  punish- 
ment to  the  public  one.  No  wonder  that  the  boys 
had  fled  to  their  room,  and  that  Bobbie  had  been 
summarily  dismissed  from  the  drawing-room,  while 
Grandpa  and  Grandma  Atherton  talked  it  over 
with  Uncle  Jerry. 

"  He'd  be  a  hopeless  young  scamp  if  he  weren't 


20  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

such  a  baby,"  Grandpa  Athertoii  was  saying  tes- 
tily. "In  my  day,  boys  used  to  mind  their 
teachers,  and  treat  them  with  some  respect." 

"But  there  wasn't  any  disrespect  in  this  case, 
father,"  urged  Uncle  Jerry,  stretching  himself  up 
to  his  fullest  height,  to  bring  his  lips  up  to  the 
ear-trumpet  of  the  tall  old  man  before  him. 

Uncle  Jerry  was  very  small,  no  larger  than  a 
boy  of  fourteen  should  have  been.  Nevertheless, 
no  one  who  knew  Gerald  Athertoii  ever  referred 
to  him  as  a  dwarf ;  it  was  always  as  "  the  little 
man,"  with  a  half-tender  accent  upon  the  words, 
since  to  meet  him  once  was  to  be  won  by  his  bright 
manner,  his  unvarying  courtesy  and  his  cheery 
unconsciousness  of  his  physical  disadvantages. 
Except  in  the  matter  of  size,  nature  had  been  kind 
to  Gerald,  for  his  little  body,  though  far  too  small 
for  the  great,  generous  heart  within  it,  was  per- 
fectly formed,  and  his  handsome  face  with  its  blue 
eyes,  dark  hair  and  crisp  brown  mustache,  with  its 
look  of  perfect  health  and  its  ready  smile,  gained 
the  liking  of  the  very  strangers  in  the  streets. 
He  had  been  the  favorite  at  school ;  he  had  been 
the  most  popular  man  of  his  college  class ;  and 
now,  at  thirty,  Gerald  Athertoii  had  more  friends 
than  any  other  man  in  town,  and  was  generally 


THE   TWINS.  21 

acknowledged  to  be  one  of  the  most  promising 
young  lawyers  of  his  state. 

"  No,"  he  said  again  ;  "  I  can't  see  that  Danforth 
was  in  the  least  to  blame  for  anything  but  his 
carelessness." 

"  Then  why  couldn't  he  have  said  so  like  a  man, 
and  not  whimpered  like  a  baby  ?  "  retorted  Grandpa 
Atherton,  abruptly  shifting  his  ground  for  the 
attack. 

"  Don't  you  know  that  isn't  Danforth 's  way, 
John  ?  "  asked  Grandma  Atherton  gently. 

"  What  ?  "  And  Grandpa  Atherton  swung  has- 
tily around,  and  brought  his  trumpet  to  bear  upon 
his  wife,  who  sat  knitting  by  the  fire,  a  dainty 
picture  of  sweet  old  age. 

She  repeated  her  question.  This  time,  her  hus- 
band heard  her. 

"  It's  time  it  was  his  way,"  he  responded  curtly. 
"  I've  no  patience  with  that  boy.  He  hasn't  any 
spirit,  and  never  will  have  ;  and  I  believe  it  ought 
to  be  thrashed  into  him.  His  mother  spoiled  him, 
when  he  was  almost  a  baby,  all  because  he  wasn't 
as  strong  as  Jack ;  but  he'll  never  make  a  man 
unless  it's  taken  out  of  him,  and  I  hope  Mr.  Duf- 
ferin  will  do  it,"  he  added  irascibly,  as  he  freed 
his  mind  by  marching  up  and  down  the  room  in 


22  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

his  favorite  attitude,  with  the  long  skirts  of  his 
dressing-gown  drawn  forward  over  his  arms,  and 
his  hands  clasped  in  front  of  him. 

It  was  plain  that  Grandpa  Atherton  was  in  a 
bad  humor. 

In  the  meantime,  Uncle  Jerry  had  been  hastily 
collecting  his  thoughts.  For  a  long  time,  he  had 
been  convinced  that  Mr.  Dufferin's  rule,  with  its 
unreasoning  alternations  of  tyranny  and  indul- 
gence, was  as  bad  for  wide-awake,  mischievous  Jack 
as  it  was  for  sensitive  Danforth.  However,  there 
was  no  other  good  school  within  reach,  so  he  had 
held  his  peace  and  waited  until  some  emergency 
should  bring  him  the  opportunity  to  suggest  his 
long-cherished  plan.  The  golden  opportunity  had 
come ;  but  it  would  be  no  easy  task  to  influence 
Grandpa  Atherton  in  his  present  mood.  Uncle 
Jerry  felt  that  some  concessions  might  be  necessary. 

"  Yes,"  he  agreed ;  "  Danforth  is  too  sensitive, 
too  easily  frightened,  and  unless  he  changes  soon, 
he  never  will  bear  the  hard  knocks  he'll  get,  when 
he  goes  into  college.  The  worst  of  it  is,  he  is 
growing  more  and  more  so,  with  every  day  he's 
under  Mr.  Dufferin." 

"Needn't  be  such  a  baby,  then,"  growled 
Grandpa  Atherton.  "  Look  at  Jack !  He's  worth 


THE  TWINS.  23 

ten  Danforths ;  and  he  knows  as  much  in  a  min- 
ute as  Danforth  does  in  all  day." 

"  Dan  can't  tell  half  he  does  know,"  said  Uncle 
Jerry.  "  He  has  a  better  mind  than  Jack  ;  but 
Mr.  Dufferin  frightens  it  all  out  of  him.  Jack  is 
one  of  his  favorites,  and  slips  along  easily ;  but  it 
will  spoil  him  the  other  way,  and  make  him  con- 
ceited and  headstrong  before  we  know  it." 

"He  has  plenty  of  that,  as  'tis,"  answered 
Grandpa  Atherton,  with  a  short  laugh.  "But 
even  if  Mr.  Dufferin  isn't  the  best  man  in  the 
world,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?  There's 
no  better  school  in  town." 

"  Why  not  hire  a  tutor  ? "  proposed  his  son, 
with  a  promptness  which  suggested  its  coming 
from  no  sudden  impulse. 

Grandpa  Atherton  frowned  in  thoughtful  dis- 
approval. In  his  young  days,  tutors  were  not  so 
common  as  they  are  now,  and  it  took  him  a  feAV 
moments  to  accustom  himself  to  the  new  idea. 

"  Well,"  he  said  at  length ;  "  whom  would  you 
have?  I  don't  know  of  anybody." 

"Neither  do  I,"  Uncle  Jerry  was  beginning, 
when  he  was  interrupted  by  his  father  who  had 
forgotten  to  adjust  his  trumpet. 

"  What?  "  he  demanded.     "  Begin  again." 


24  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"  I  said  that  I  didn't  know  of  anybody  now," 
repeated  Uncle  Jerry ;  "  but  we  could  easily  find 
some  one." 

"  How  ?  "  Grandpa  Atherton  asked  the  ques- 
tion with  the  air  of  having  offered  a  poser. 

"  Advertise,"  responded  his  son.  "  Our  best 
way  to  get  the  kind  of  man  we  want,  would  be  to 
send  right  to  one  of  the  literary  weeklies.  There 
are  plenty  of  college  men  who  would  be  glad  to 
take  a  position  with  us,  for  a  few  years,  as  resident 
tutor  for  the  children.  What  do  you  say  about  it, 
mother?"  he  asked,  turning  with  a  gentle  defer- 
ence to  address  Grandma  Atherton. 

"  If  only  it  were  not  for  his  having  to  live  here, 
Jerry,"  she  said  doubtfully. 

"  But  we  might  all  of  us  enjoy  that  part  of  it, 
mother,"  he  urged  quickly.  "  If  he  were  a  bright, 
gentlemanly  fellow,  you  and  father  wouldn't  much 
mind  him,  and  he'd  be  good  company  for  me,  even- 
ings. Perhaps  I'd  better  advertise  for  one  who 
plays  whist,"  he  added,  laughing.  "Then  we 
could  have  our  evening  rubber  without  calling  on 
the  children.  Jack  and  Bobbie  won't  learn  how 
to  play,  so  it  all  falls  on  poor  Danforth  who  doesn't 
dare  tell  how  cordially  he  hates  it."  Then  he 
turned  back  to  his  father  once  more.  "  It  would 


THE  TWINS.  25 

be  so  much  better  for  the  boys,"  he  said  persua- 
sively ;  "  and  it  might  be  a  good  thing  for  Roberta. 
The  child  isn't  learning  anything  in  that  school 
where  she  is,  —  anything  that's  of  any  use  to  her,  I 
mean.  They  teach  her  a  little  German  and  a  little 
French,  and  some  music  and  drawing,  and  a  great 
deal  of  society  nonsense  that  she  ought  to  know 
nothing  at  all  about,  for  years  to  come.  If  you 
will  agree  to  my  plan,  I'll  save  you  any  care  about 
the  matter.  I  can't  teach  the  children,  myself, 
for  I  haven't  the  time ;  but,  at  least,  with  a  tutor 
right  here  in  the  house,  I  can  see  that  he's  doing 
good  work  for  them,  and  send  him  off,  if  he 
isn't." 

Nobody,  least  of  all  Gerald  Atherton  himself, 
knew  just  how  it  was  that  Grandpa  Atherton  was 
invariably  brought  around  to  his  son's  way  of 
thinking.  No  matter  how  much  their  opinions 
might  clash  at  first,  the  result  was  always  the 
same ;  so  it  was  no  surprise  to  Grandma  Atherton, 
who  had  long  ago  been  coaxed  into  agreeing  with 
her  son,  to  hear  her  husband,  at  the  end  of  a  half- 
hour's  discussion,  eagerly  urging  upon  Gerald  the 
advisability  of  a  tutor  for  the  children,  without 
having  the  faintest  doubt  but  that  the  suggestion 
had  originally  come  from  himself. 


26  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

Then  the  children  were  called  back  into  the 
drawing-room,  to  hear  the  result  of  the  conference. 
The  boys  were  to  go  back  into  school,  for  the  rest 
of  the  month,  and  were  under  strict  bonds  to  be- 
have themselves  like  gentlemen  and  Athertons; 
while  Danforth  was  ordered  to  make  a  public 
apologjr  to  Mr.  Dufferin  for  the  mischief  done  by 
his  ball.  When  the  first  of  October  came,  they 
were  all  three  to  be  taken  out  of  school  and  put 
in  charge  of  a  tutor,  who  should  prepare  the  boys 
for  Yale  and  Bobbie  for  Smith.  The  news  was 
received  with  disgust  by  Jack,  who  was  the 
acknowledged  leader  of  the  school;  with  secret 
misgivings  by  Danforth,  who  regarded  it  as  only 
the  beginning  of  fresh  troubles ;  and  with  open 
exultation  by  Roberta,  for  she  hailed  with  delight 
the  prospect  of  abandoning  her  present  rather  old- 
maidish  teacher,  since  even  thirteen  years'  experi- 
ence of  life  had  taught  Miss  Bobbie  that  one 
sidelong  glance  of  her  roguish  brown  eyes  could 
bring  to  her  feet  the  most  obdurate  of  mankind. 

So  Uncle  Jerry  went  away  to  write  the  letter, 
and  Grandma  Atherton  followed  him,  to  make 
sure  that  the  library  was  not  too  warm,  and  that 
his  desk  was  in  order.  Grandpa  Atherton  was 
soon  deep  in  his  paper,  and  the  children  were  free 


THE   TWINS.  27 

to  express  their  opinions  upon  the  sudden  change 
in  their  prospects. 

"  Who  wants  a  horrid  old  tutor  around  in  the 
way,  all  the  time  ?  "  grumbled  Jack,  in  a  low  tone, 
for  Grandpa  Atherton's  ears  were  never  so  sharp 
as  when  he  was  particularly  desired  not  to  over- 
hear some  mutinous  remark. 

"He  can't  be  much  worse  than  Duffy,"  said 
Danforth  uneasily;  "and  I'm  glad  to  get  out  of 
that  school  and  start  fresh.  Duff  thinks  I'm  a 
fool  and  a  sneak ;  but  maybe  this  new  fellow  will 
give  me  some  show." 

But  Bobbie  could  not  forbear  giving  one  little 
frisk  of  sheer  triumph. 

"Don't  worry,  boys,"  she  said  saucily,  as  she 
caught  up  her  skirt  in  both  hands  and  made  a 
sweeping  courtesy,  "  I'll  manage  him  for  you ;  you 
needn't  be  afraid." 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   MESSAGE   OF   THE   KOSES. 

LATE  the  next  Saturday  afternoon,  Margaret 
Davis  was  walking  home  from  a  meeting  of  the 
A.  C.  A.  She  had  been  unusually  interested,  for 
there  had  been  ^,n  address  by  an  earnest  young 
Englishman  from  Toynbee  Hall,  followed  by  a 
discussion  of  the  proper  aims  and  employments  oi 
a  college  woman.  Now  she  was  thinking  it  over, 
as  she  walked  along  the  city  streets,  crowded  with 
the  usual  Saturday  afternoon  throng;  and  her  face, 
meanwhile,  expressed  a  vague  dissatisfaction  either 
with  herself  or  her  surroundings.  At  the  post 
office  she  stopped  for  a  moment,  to  see  if  her  favor- 
ite weekly  had  come  in,  too  late  for  the  afternoon 
delivery.  When  she  came  out  on  the  steps  again, 
she  held  it  in  her  hand  and  was  eagerly  running 
her  eye  up  and  down  over  the  delightful  gossip 
notes  which  close  each  number.  Then,  as  she 
folded  it  again,  her  glance  rested  upon  the  opposite 
page.  The  next  moment,  her  face  lighted  with  a 

28 


THE   MESSAGE   OF   THE   ROSES.  29 

sudden  thought  and  she  nodded  decisively  to  her- 
self, as  she  quickened  her  pace  towards  home. 

On  the  steps,  she  was  rapturously  received  by  a 
shaggy  black  and  tan  collie  who,  rinding  that  his 
low  whines  and  taps  on  the  door  had  failed  to  give 
him  admission  to  the  house,  had  patiently  settled 
himself  to  await  the  coming  of  his  mistress,  that 
he  might  go  in  with  her.  Now,  from  his  vantage- 
ground  of  the  top  step,  he  plunged  forward  upon 
her,  in  all  the  fervor  of  his  joy. 

"  There,  there,  Laddie  !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  two 
rough  paws  descended  upon  her  two  shoulders 
with  a  precision  of  aim  born  only  of  long  practice. 
"  Yes,  I've  come  home.  Was  he  glad  to  see  me  ?  " 

Laddie  gave  one  short,  sharp  bark  in  reply  ;  then 
he  dropped  back  again  and  stood  with  the  tip  of 
his  nose  pressed  hard  against  the  door,  waiting  to 
push  his  way  through  the  first  crack  which  offered 
itself.  Once  inside  the  house,  he  allowed  his  mis- 
tress to  take  the  lead,  and  went  soberly  trudging 
after  her  up  the  stairs  and  into  the  large  front 
room,  where  Mrs.  Davis  and  her  other  two  daugh- 
ters were  trying  to  coerce  the  folds  of  a  home- 
made gown  into  looking  as  if  they  had  just  come 
from  a  tailor.  They  glanced  up  expectantly  as 
Margaret  burst  in  upon  them,  with  all  the  breezy 


30  MAKGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

energy  developed  by  her  long  walk  in  the  open 
air. 

"  Oh,  Peggy,  I'm  so  glad  you've  come ! "  ex- 
claimed her  younger  sister,  who  was  temporarily 
acting  as  lay  figure.  "  Can't  you  put  this  on  for  a 
while  ?  I'm  so  tired  of  standing  here."  And  she 
cautiously  stretched  out  her  long  arms  and  yawned. 

"  Do  stand  still,  Molly,"  interposed  her  mother 
hastily.  "  When  you  move,  you  throw  these  back 
folds  all  out  of  place.  This  doesn't  seem  quite 
right,  though,  Elinor,"  she  added,  turning  to  her 
oldest  daughter  who  was  sitting  on  the  floor,  in  a 
sea  of  brown  tissue  paper  and  breadths  of  blue 
serge. 

"  But  it  must  be  all  right,"  said  Elinor  firmly. 
"  I've  put  it  together  just  exactly  like  the  pattern. 
Peggy,  do  call  Laddie  away !  He  will  tear  this 
paper  all  to  pieces,  if  he  rolls  on  it.  Now  listen, 
mother,  while  I  read,  and  see  if  it  isn't  right.  Let 
me  see."  And  she  referred  to  the  paper  in  her 
hand,  running  her  finger  down  along  the  closely- 
printed  sheet.  "  '  Cut  the  front  gore  with '  —  no, 
it's  the  back  we  want.  Here  'tis.  '  Gather  the 
top  of  the  back  from  the  triple  perforation  to 
the  second  notch  from  the  middle,  and  apply  it 
to  the  belt,  adjusting  the  fulness  to  fit  the  figure.' 


THE   MESSAGE   OF   THE    ROSES.  31 

There,  you  see  it  is  right,"  she  concluded  trium- 
phantly. 

"Perhaps  you  haven't  adjusted  the  fulness  to 
fit  the  figure,"  suggested  Margaret,  who  had 
dropped  into  the  nearest  chair  and  was  surveying 
them  with  unmixed  scorn.  "  Do  you  know,"  she 
added,  after  a  pause,  "I'd  rather  never  have  a 
new  gown  than  go  through  such  a  performance 
to  get  it." 

"  Nobody  would  ever  doubt  that  who  saw  you," 
answered  Elinor,  laughing  in  spite  of  herself,  as 
she  rescued  a  half-finished  sleeve  from  Laddie's 
mouth.  "You  are  chronically  out  at  elbows. 
Now,  I'd  rather  have  a  few  more  gowns  and  make 
them  myself,  instead  of  putting  all  my  money  into 
dressmakers." 

"I  wouldn't  though,"  returned  Margaret  placidly, 
while  she  took  off  her  hat  and  ran  her  fingers 
through  her  front  hair.  "  It  takes  more  brains  to 
puzzle  out  a  paper  pattern  than  it  does  to  write  a 
book.  Some  day  I  may  want  to  use  my  mind,  you 
know,  and  then  I  should  be  so  disappointed  to  find 
that  it  had  all  gone  into  my  clothes.  I'm  willing 
to  live  on  one  frock  a  year,  if  it's  necessary ;  but  I 
positively  decline  to  make  that  one."  She  \v;is 
silent  for  a  moment;  then  she  said  coaxingly, 


32  MARGARET   DAVIS,  TUTOR. 

"Mammy  dear,  let  that  old  gown  go,  and  come 
into  my  room  for  a  talk.  I  know  you're  tired 
enough  now,  and  it's  too  dark  for  you  to  see  much 
longer.  Besides,  I  want  to  consult  you  about  a 
new  idea  I  have." 

"  What  is  it,  a  treatise  on  ancient  history,  or  an 
entertainment  for  your  boys'  club?  It's  sure  to  be 
something  stupid,"  observed  Molly,  with  all  the 
pertness  of  sweet  sixteen. 

"Neither,  this  time,"  answered  Margaret  good- 
naturedly.  "  Mother  can  tell  you  by  and  by,  when 
she's  ready."  And  throwing  an  arm  about  her 
mother's  waist,  she  drew  her  away  into  her  own 
room  and  put  her  into  a  chair  by  the  window. 
Then,  hat  in  hand,  she  dropped  down  on  the  side 
of  the  bed,  where  she  sat  silent,  as  if  not  knowing 
how  to  proceed. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  her  mother  interrogatively. 

"I  know  it,"  answered  Margaret  irrelevantly; 
"  but  —  "  She  hesitated. 

"  What  is  it,  Peggy  ?  "  her  mother  asked  again. 

Something  in  the  old-time  name  and  in  the 
motherly  tone  gave  Margaret  courage,  and  she 
said,  with  an  odd  little  catch  in  her  breath,  — 

"Mammy  dear,  may  I  go  away  for  a  few 
months  ?  " 


THE   MESSAGE   OF   THE   ROSES.  33 

Mrs.  Davis's  face  fell ;  she  had  been  dreading 
the  day  when  this  should  come.  For  the  past  few 
months,  she  had  seen  that  Margaret  was  growing 
restless,  as  if  the  daily  routine  of  home  life  were 
pressing  too  closely  about  her  and  cramping  her. 
A  change  would  be  good  for  the  girl;  and  yet, 
bright,  tempestuous,  impulsive  Margaret  was  her 
favorite  child,  the  one  who  entered  most  deeply 
into  her  mother's  life.  How  could  she  give  her 
up  ?  A  whole  battle  was  fought  and  won,  in  the 
silence  which  followed  Margaret's  question.  Then 
Mrs.  Davis  said  gently,  — 

"  If  it  is  really  best  for  you,  Peggy,  I  could  let 
you  go.  What  is  it  you  want  to  do  ?  " 

"It's  this."  And  Margaret  thrust  the  paper 
into  her  mother's  hand. 

"  You'll  have  to  read  it  to  me,"  Mrs.  Davis  said ; 
"I  haven't  my  glasses  on."  She  was  perfectly 
well  aware  that  her  glasses  were  lying  in  her 
pocket,  but  her  eyes  had  grown  too  dim  to  allow 
her  to  use  them. 

"It's  only  an  advertisement  I  saw  to-day," 
said  Margaret  more  quietly.  Then  she  read, 
"  Wanted,  a  resident  tutor  for  a  family  in  New 
Hampshire.  Must  be  a  college  graduate,  Yale  pre- 
ferred. For  particulars,  address  G-.  A.,  care  of 


34  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

.  May  I  try  to  get  the  place,  mammy,  just 

for  this  one  year  ?  " 

"  But  it  says  '  Yale  preferred,' "  answered  her 
mother,  vainly  clinging  to  this  one  hope. 

ft  Yes,  I  know ;  but  our  degrees  are  as  good  as 
Yale's.  I  have  my  A.  M.  too,  and  that  would  be 
a  help;  besides,  I  can  refer  to  ever  so  many  of 
the  professors  here.  I  know  the  chances  are 
against  me,  but  I  do  want  to  try."  And  Margaret 
paused  expectantly. 

"Why  is  it  that  you  want  to  go,  dear?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Davis.  "Can't  you  be  happy,  here  at 
home?" 

Margaret  dropped  down  on  the  floor  at  her 
mother's  feet,  and  rested  her  chin  on  her  hands. 

"  I  am  happy  here,"  she  said  slowly ;  "  very 
happy ;  but  —  can't  you  understand  it,  mammy  ? 
—  I  want  to  try  my  wings.  I've  been  at  home 
for  four  years  now,  ever  since  I  was  graduated ; 
and  it's  time  I  took  a  year  of  work,  if  only  to 
prove  that  I  can  do  something  useful,  if  I  try. 
Besides,  I'm  getting  tired  of  being  snubbed  as  a 
do-nothing.  Every  new  member  that  comes  into 
our  A.  C.  A.  asks  me  if  I'm  not  teaching,  and 
when  I  confess  that  I'm  not,  she  looks  at  me 
reproachfully  and  says,  '  Of  course,  then,  you're 


THE   MESSAGE   OF   THE   KOSES.  35 

studying  here  at  Yale.'  When  they  find  that  I'm 
a  mere  cumberer  of  the  ground,  they  turn  their 
backs  upon  me,  only,"  she  added,  with  a  little 
laugh;  "they  waggle  their  heads  and  point  all 
their  morals  at  me,  when  they  discuss  the  proper 
relation  of  college  women  to  the  community.  And 
then  I  want  to  taste  the  sweets  of  independence. 
I'd  like  to  be  able  to  be  rashly  extravagant,  once 
in  a  while,  and  not  have  to  decide  whether  I'd 
forego  the  next  symphony  concert,  or  wear  my 
old  gloves  a  month  longer." 

"  You  can  easily  have  a  larger  allowance,  Mar- 
garet," her  mother  was  beginning ;  but  Margaret 
interrupted  her, — 

"  Truly,  it  isn't  that,  at  all.  I  want  to  feel  that 
I'm  really  earning  my  own  money,  not  living  on 
what  you  give  me.  But  that  is  only  a  half-reason. 
Back  of  it  all,  I  am  getting  a  little  uneasy  and 
want  a  change.  I'm  fond  of  children  and  always 
get  on  well  with  them,  so  no  work  could  be  pleas- 
anter.  It  would  only  be  for  this  one  year,  and 
that  is  such  a  tiny  little  bit  of  a  time." 

"But  how  could  I  let  you  go?"  And  Mrs. 
Davis  looked  regretfully  down  into  the  eager  face 
before  her. 

"That's  just  it.     If  you  really  needed  me,  I 


36  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

wouldn't  say  a  word;  but  you  have  Elinor  and 
Molly  to  do  the '  useful  and  ornamental  for  you, 
and  I'm  the  extra  one.  Of  course,  if  you  truly 
disapprove,  I'll  give  it  up  at  once  and  forever." 
Margaret  tried  to  speak  bravely;  but  the  uncon- 
scious change  in  her  tone  showed  how  her  heart 
was  set  upon  this  sudden  desire. 

That  settled  the  matter;  and  after  a  long  talk 
too  full  of  mother-love  to  be  set  down  here  for 
stranger  eyes  to  read,  Margaret  seated  herself  at 
her  little  oak  desk,  to  write  a  formal  letter  of  ap- 
plication to  the  unknown  G.  A.  of  the  adver- 
tisement. 

"  It's  rather  awful  to  have  to  make  an  inventory 
of  one's  personal  attractions  and  mental  attain- 
ments," she  said  to  herself,  as  she  abstractedly 
inked  the  nose  of  the  grotesque  face  carved  in  the 
top  of  her  desk.  "  I  do  hope  I  haven't  been  self- 
ish ;  but  I  really  don't  think  I'm  needed  here,  and 
I  do  want  to  go.  I  don't  believe  mother  cares 
much." 

How  much  her  mother  cared,  Margaret  never 
knew. 

Great  was  the  dismay  of  her  sisters,  half  an  hour 
later,  when  Margaret  came  in  Avith  her  hat  on,  and 
announced  that  she  had  just  been  out  to  mail  a 


THE  MESSAGE   OF  THE  ROSES.  37 

letter,  asking  for  a  tutor's  position  in  a  strange 
family. 

"If  that  isn't  just  like  Margaret,"  groaned 
Elinor;  "to  take  up  with  every  new  whim  that 
comes  into  her  head !  Do  you  realize,  Margaret 
Davis,  that  you'll  be  nothing  more  than  an  upper 
servant,  or  a  nurse-maid?  You'll  have  to  live  in 
one  or  two  little  tucked-up  rooms,  and  to  eat  at 
second  table,  and  play  for  dancing  when  they  have 
company  ?  How  are  you  going  to  like  that  ?  " 

Margaret's  face  fell.  This  was  a  new  view  of 
the  case  to  her,  and  it  was  not  an  encouraging  one. 

"  Well,  you  needn't  be  alarmed,"  said  Molly, 
who  had  possessed  herself  of  the  paper  and  was 
studying  the  advertisement.  "It's  a  man  they 
want,  and  he  must  be  from  Yale,  so  Margaret 
won't  stand  any  chance  of  getting  it.  I  hope  she 
won't,  either,"  she  added,  as  she  threw  the  paper 
across  the  floor.  "  What  will  the  girls  at  school 
say,  when  they  know  my  sister  has  gone  out  as 
nursery  governess  ?  " 

"  Is  it  girls  or  boys  ?  "  asked  Elinor. 

"  I  don't  much  care,"  answered  Margaret,  catch- 
ing up  the  paper  again,  to  hide  her  annoyance  at 
Elinor's  tone  of  disapproval.  "  I  like  them  both ; 
but  it  is  probably  boys.  I  shouldn't  think  they'd 


38  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

want  a  Yale  graduate  for  a  girl.  Dear  me,  I  wish 
they  would  hurry  and  answer  my^  letter !  I  am  so 
afraid  it  will  be  the  kind  of  a  place  that  I  don't 
want  to  take." 

"But  what  about  Laddie?"  inquired  Molly 
suddenly.  "  Even  if  you  don't  mind  leaving  us,  I 
shouldn't  think  you  could  stand  it  to  be  away  from 
him." 

And  Laddie,  as  if  to  add  his  voice  to  the  general 
remonstrance,  rose,  walked  slowly  across  to  Mar- 
garet's side  and  laid  his  nose  in  her  lap,  with  a 
profound  sigh. 

"It's  too  bad  of  you,  Molly,  to  talk  in  that 
way,"  protested  Margaret.  "You  know  it  isn't 

x 

because  I  want  to  leave  you;  but — well,  mother 
understands,"  she  added  desperately,  as  she  bent 
over  to  stroke  the  head  in  her  lap.  "  But  what's 
the  tfse  of  talking  about  it  any  more  ?  Most  likely 
they  won't  want  me  at  all,  and  we  shall  have  had 
this  tempest  in  a  teapot  all  for  nothing.  Come, 
Laddie,  we  must  go  and  smooth  down  our  ruffled 
plumages  before  dinner."  And  she  escaped  to  her 
own  room,  leaving  her  mother  to  defend  her  course 
and  quiet  her  sisters'  objections. 

No  one  who  knew  Margaret  Davis  would  ever 
have  thought  of  her  as  the  victim  of  an  unhappy 


THE  MESSAGE  OF  THE  ROSES.  39 

• 

love  affair ;  yet  she  had  known  her  one  little 
romance,  and  now,  at  twenty-five,  she  regarded 
that  side  of  life  as  being  ended  for  her.  It  was 
one  of  those  vexatious  little  mistakes  for  which 
neither  one  is  at  all  responsible,  but  which  appar- 
ently destroy  the  happiness  of  two  people,  and 
send  them  drifting  far  apart  just  at  the  moment 
when  they  are  about  to  come  together  for  life. 

The  second  winter  ^f ter  she  left  college,  Mar- 
garet had  met  a  young  electrician,  with  whom  she 
quickly  formed  an  easy,  off-hand  friendship.  They 
were  in  the  same  whist  club  and  the  same  oratorio 
society,  they  attended  the  same  church  and  were 
invited  to  the  same  parties ;  so,  long  before  the 
season  was  over,  they  had  come  to  depend  upon 
their  frequent  meetings,  although  as  yet  the 
thought  of  love  had  not  come  to  either  one  of  them; 
They  had  the  same  tastes  and  the  same  interests, 
that  was  all,  and  they  enjoyed  coming  together  and 
talking  over  their  doings  and  their  plans.  But 
this  state  of  affairs  could  not  last  indefinitely,  and 
before  the  second  winter  was  over,  it  had  become 
evident  to  every  one  that  matters  were  growing 
serious  for  both  Margaret  and  Mr.  Thornton. 

Mrs.  Davis  was  quite  content,  for  the  young 
man's  character  and  family  were  all  that  she 


40  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

• 

could  desire.  Moreover,  he  had  a  good  salary, 
and  Margaret  would  some  day  have  a  little  money 
of  her  own,  so  that  question  need  not  stand  in  the 
way  of  a  prompt  engagement. 

Then  came  the  end,  so  suddenly  and  unexpect- 
edly that  the  friends  who  were  only  watching  for 
the  time  to  offer  their  congratulations,  knew  not 
what  to  think.  It  was  during  the  previous  win- 
ter, just  before  Lent,  when- city  life  is  always  at 
its  gayest,  that  Hugh  Thornton  came,  one  after- 
noon, to  call  on  Margaret.  Just  what  he  said  to 
her  was  never  known ;  but  Molly,  who  inoppor- 
tunely appeared  to  them  in  the  parlor,  saw  him 
hastily  start  up  from  her  sister's  side,  as  he  said, 
with  an  evident  effort  to  act  as  if  nothing  unusual 
had  occurred,  — 

"  Very  well,  Miss  Davis,  I  shall  see  you  to-mor- 
row night,  at  Mrs.  Sutherland's,  and  we'll  finish 
our  talk  there."  And  he  had  gone  away,  leaving 
Margaret  in  a  strange  state  of  excitement  and 
elation. 

The  next  day,  Margaret  had  received  a  large 
box  of  flowers,  but  she  had  hunted  in  vain  through 
and  through  their  fragrant  masses,  for  the  card 
which  should  be  there.  She  was  sure  they  were 
sent  by  Hugh  Thornton,  and  she  longed  to  carry 


THE  MESSAGE  OF   THE   ROSES.  41 

some  of  them  to  the  reception  that  evening ;  but 
she  dared  not  do  so,  for  fear  they  might  chance  to 
come  from  some  other  friend.  Still,  it  was  with 
happy  anticipations  that  she  dressed  herself,  that 
night,  for  she  knew  so  well  the  nature  of  the  talk 
which  she  and  Hugh  were  to  finish,  and  she  felt 
that  it  could  have  but  the  one  ending. 

However,  the  evening  proved  to  be  one  of  bitter 
disappointment.  As  she  stood  at  her  mother's 
side,  responding  vaguely  to  the  greetings  of  her 
hostess,  she  had  glanced  quickly  about  the  room 
until  she  caught  sight  of  Hugh's  face  looking 
steadfastly  at  her  from  a  distant  doorway,  with 
a  strangely  downcast,  questioning  expression.  It 
was  only  for  a  moment;  then  she  lost  sight  of 
him,  and  during  all  the  rest  of  the  evening,  she 
waited  in  vain  for  him  to  join  her.  Hurt  and 
annoyed,  she  covered  her  feelings  as  well  as  she 
could,  and  talked  and  laughed  as  usual,  while  the 
time  slowly  dragged  away  until  she  could  go  home 
and  hurry  to  her  room. 

There  on  the  table  lay  an  envelope  addressed  to 
her.  She  snatched  it  up  and  tore  it  open,  sure  that 
it  must  in  some  way  explain  Hugh's  strange  behavior 
of  the  evening.  It  only  contained  a  note  from  the 
florist,  saying  that  the  enclosed  card  had  been  acci- 


42  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

dentally  omitted  from  the  box  which  he  had  sent  her 
that  morning.  In  a  dazed  fashion,  Margaret  stooped 
to  pick  up  the  card  which  had  fallen  to  the  floor 
at  her  feet,  and  turned  it  over  and  over,  staring 
at  it  as  if  slow  to  read  its  meaning.  Below  the 
name  was  written,  "  Carry  some  of  these  roses  this 
evening,  and  I  shall  know  what  your  answer  will 
be."  Then  she  understood  it  all.  Two  days 
later,  the  papers  announced  that  Hugh  Thornton 
had  resigned  his  position  and  gone  to  New  York. 
Margaret's  romance  was  ended. 

It  was  not  like  Margaret  to  make  any  demon- 
stration of  her  sorrow ;  in  fact,  she  never  once 
alluded  to  it.  As  spring  came  on,  she  grew  a  little 
thinner  and  paler;  but,  to  all  appearances,  she  was 
the  same  bright  Margaret  they  had  always  seen. 
Her  mother  knew  better ;  but  even  she  was  igno- 
rant of  the  nights  when  Margaret  lay  awake  and 
lived  over  and  over  again  the  happiness  of  the  past 
winter.  But  brave  as  the  girl  was  in  making  the 
best  of  it  and  trying  to  forget,  the  wound  still  re- 
mained, and  she  often  longed  to  go  away  for  a  time, 
to  drop  out  of  the  associations  with  the  past,  into 
a  new  life  where  all  was  fresh  and  untried.  For 
weeks  this  feeling  had  been  growing  upon  her, 
when  she  came  upon  Gerald  Atherton's  advertise- 


THE  MESSAGE   OF  THE   ROSES.  43 

ment  for  a  tutor,  and  she  hailed  it  as  an  offer  of 
escape,  little  dreaming  that  it  was  the  first  thread 
of  the  new  web  which  the  fates  were  weaving  for 
her  life. 

By  the  next  morning  Margaret  had  persuaded 
herself  that  she  had  done  a  foolish  thing  in  offer- 
ing her  services  for  a  position  which  was  so  evi- 
dently designed  for  a  man;  and  she  regretted  her 
letter  of  application  which  could  only  bring  her 
the  mortification  of  a  prompt  refusal.  So  sure  was 
she  of  the  truth  of  her  new  view  of  the  matter 
that,  when  the  postman  stopped  at  the  door,  four 
days  later,  and  handed  her,  among  others,  a  letter 
addressed  to  herself  in  a  plain,  legal  hand,  she 
opened  her  other  mail  first,  before  she  had  the  curi- 
osity, or  the  courage  to  examine  the  one  which  was 
to  decide  her  fate.  When  at  last  she  took  it  up,  she 
turned  it  over  and  over,  as  if  trying  to  gain,  from 
the  outside,  some  idea  of  its  contents.  It  was  a 
square,  thick  letter,  written  on  heavy  paper  of  a 
bluish  tint,  and  the  flap  of  the  envelope  bore  a  tiny 
crest  in  blue. 

"  I  don't  like  crests,  here  in  America,"  she  said 
to  herself  critically ;  "  I  think  they're  snobbish  ; 
but  the  writing  is  plain  and  refined,  without  any 
flourishes.  That's  one  comfort." 


44  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

Deliberately  she  cut  the  envelope  and  opened 
the  letter  within.  Then,  as  her  eye  ran  down  over 
the  first  page,  she  gave  a  little  gasp  of  surprise. 
Instead  of  the  curt  refusal  which  she  had  expected, 
the  letter  contained  a  cordial  acceptance  of  her 
application,  with  the  offer  of  a  salary  so  generous 
as  to  make  her  almost  doubt  the  reality  of  the 
whole  affair.  For  a  moment,  she  stood  gazing  at 
the  letter  in  her  hand,  as  if  expecting  to  see  it  sud- 
denly vanish  from  before  her  eyes  ;  then  she  rushed 
excitedly  into  her  mother's  room,  exclaiming,  — 

"  Rejoice  with  me,  mammy  !  The  fates  are  pro- 
pitious, and  G.  A.  wants  me  as  much  as  I  want 
him." 

The  hurry  and  excitement  of  the  next  ten  days 
of  preparation  were  broken  by  two  more  letters 
from  Mr.  Atherton,  letters  so  friendly  in  their  tone 
as  to  remove  even  Elinor's  doubts  in  regard  to  the 
position  which  her  sister  was  to  take.  Then,  be- 
fore Margaret  realized  that  she  was  going  out  from 
her  old  home  corner,  the  farewells  were  said,  and 
she  found  herself  seated  in  the  train  which  was 
rushing  away  northward,  to  meet  the  new  life  be- 
fore her. 

During  her  five-hour  ride,  Margaret  had  plenty 
of  time  to  think  of  the  future.  The  past  few  days 


THE   MESSAGE   OF   THE   ROSES.  45 

had  been  so  full,  that  she  had  only  lived  in  the 
present ;  but  now,  as  she  realized  that  she  had 
suddenly  started  out  into  the  world  upon  her  own 
account,  she  had  a  momentary  longing  to  take  the 
first  south-bound  train  which  she  met.  But  she 
laughed  at  herself  for  her  inconsistency,  and 
busied  herself  in  arranging  her  umbrella  and 
wraps  to  her  liking.  Then  she  opened  her  bag 
and  took  out  the  letters  she  had  received  from  her 
future  employer. 

"  Gerald  Atherton  isn't  a  bad  sort  of  name,"  she 
said  to  herself ;  "  but,  as  Molly  says,  he's  probably 
a  fussy  old  bachelor  of  sixty-five  or  so.  I  do  hope 
the  children  won't  be  too  sinful.  They  evidently 
don't  mean  to  make  a  servant  of  me,  for  Mr.  Ath- 
erton says  he  decided  to  take  me,  instead  of 
that  Yale  '89  man,  because  I'd  be  such  a  pleasant 
companion  for  his  mother.  Wonder  how  he  knows, 
for  I'm  not  always  so  pleasant.  I  suppose  I  must 
wait  till  I  see  his  lordship  before  I  can  find  out 
anything  more." 

Then,  with  one  last  glance  out  at  the  Hanging 
Hills  lying  blue  in  the  early  afternoon  sunshine,  she 
settled  herself  to  the  new  Century  and  forgot  all 
that  was  passing  around  her,  until  the  twilight 
forced  her  to  abandon  her  book  and  fall  to  musing 
again 


46  MARGARET    DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

The  darkness  had  quite  fallen  when  the  train 
stopped  at  the  little  city  where  Mr.  Atherton  had 
agreed  to  meet  her;  but,  as  she  stepped  out  on 
the  platform  she  saw  the  dim  outline  of  a  rugged 
mountain  rising  close  at  hand,  and  heard  the  dull 
roar  of  the  river,  as  it  thundered  over  the  falls, 
a  thousand  feet  away.  A  moment  later,  Gerald 
Atherton  stood  before  her,  hat  in  hand. 

"  Miss  Davis,  I  think?  "  he  said  questioningly. 
"  I  am  Mr.  Atherton.  If  you'll  give  me  your 
checks  I'll  hand  them  to  an  expressman,  and  then 
take  you  across  to  the  carriage." 

With  a  momentary  feeling  of  pity  and  dismay, 
Margaret's  eyes  had  rested  upon  the  little  figure 
before  her.  However,  as  she  met  his  smile,  she 
forgot  all  that;  and  she  answered  with  perfect 
ease  to  his  kindly  inquiries  about  her  journey, 
while  Mr.  Atherton  led  the  way  across  the  plat- 
form to  a  low,  open  carriage,  with  a  coachman  in 
plain  green  livery  on  the  front  seat,  helped  Mar- 
garet to  her  place  and  seated  himself  by  her  side. 
Then,  as  they  drove  away,  he  asked  if  she  had 
received  his  last  letter,  and  went  on  to  tell  her 
more  of  the  family  life  to  which  she  was  so  soon 
to  be  introduced. 

"  I  thought  if  you  didn't  care,"  he  added ;  "  that 


THE   MESSAGE   OF   THE   liOSES.  47 

it  would  be  better  not  to  have  the  lessons  begin 
until  next  week.  That  will  give  you  two  or  three 
days  to  get  acquainted  with  the  children,  before 
you  have  to  take  charge  of  them." 

"  They  are  your  sister's  children,  I  think,"  said 
Margaret.  "Two  boys  and  one  girl,  you  said, 
didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  they  are  good  children,  too,"  answered 
Mr.  Atherton  quickly.  "  I  hope  they  won't  make 
you  any  trouble.  They  weren't  getting  much 
good  at  school,  so  I  thought  it  would  be  better  to 
have  a  change.  Jack  and  Roberta  are  bright, 
wide-awake  children,  perhaps  a  little  too  self- 
willed  ;  but  I  fancy  that  your  greatest  care  will 
be  with  poor  Danforth." 

"  Why  so  ?  "  asked  Margaret,  a  little  puzzled  at 
his  way  of  alluding  to  his  nephew. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed."  And  he  smiled  at  her 
evident  fear.  "Dan  is  one  of  the  dearest  and  best 
fellows  in  the  world  ;  but  he's  a  sensitive  boy  that 
we  all  have  to  handle  with  gloves.  He  is  the  real 
cause  of  your  coming  here.  Jack  would  have 
done  well  enough  in  school ;  but  Danforth  was 
constantly  in  disgrace,  for  his  teacher  had  no 
mercy  on  his  weak  points,  and  simply  bullied 
the  life  out  of  him.  If  it  had  gone  on  much 


48  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

longer,  he  would  have  been  so  discouraged  that 
he  would  have  given  up  trying  to  amount  to 
anything.  I  think  you'll  be  sorry  for  the  boy, 
Miss  Davis,  and  I  hope  you'll  like  him.  If  you 
do,  you  will  have  no  trouble,  for  while  he  has  a 
will  of  his  own  and  can't  be  driven  an  inch,  he 
can  be  led  anywhere.  If  he  trusts  you  as  a  friend, 
you  can  do  what  you  please  with  him.  Forgive 
my  speaking  so  plainly,"  he  added ;  "  but  I  am 
fond  of  Danforth,  and  I  wanted  you  to  understand 
him  from  the  first.  Strangers  always  take  to  Jack, 
for  he's  a  good-looking  boy;  and  Danforth  steps 
into  the  background,  as  a  matter  of  course.  But 
there  are  the  home  lights,  on  that  hill  ahead  of 
us,  and  I  am  glad,  for  I  can  see  that  you  are  very 
tired." 

They  had  driven  rapidly  through  the  city  streets 
and  across  a  long  covered  bridge  which  throbbed 
with  the  rushing  of  the  water  beneath ;  then  they 
turned  into  a  narrow  country  road,  which  ran 
along,  close  to  the  base  of  the  shadowy  mountain. 
A  mile  up  the  valley,  they  turned  abruptly,  wound 
up  a  steep  hillside  and  stopped  at  the  steps  of  a 
great  brick  house  with  a  broad,  hospitable  porch 
over  the  front  door,  and  a  bright  shaft  of  light 
shining  out  from  the  fanlight  above  it.  Before 


THE   MESSAGE   OF   THE   ROSES.  49 

the  carriage  had  fairly  stopped,  Mr.  Atherton  had 
leaped  out  and  offered  his  hand  to  Margaret. 

"  Come  in,"  he  said  hospitably ;  "  my  mother  is 
waiting  to  welcome  you." 

Feeling  as  if  she  were  in  a  dream,  Margaret 
followed  him  into  the  wide  hall  which  ran  through 
the  middle  of  the  house.  She  had  just  time  to 
give  a  passing  glance  at  the  paneled  walls,  the 
quaintly-carved  banisters,  the  ancient  settees  ranged 
along  the  side  wall  and  the  marble  Cupid  on  its 
ebony  pedestal  in  the  corner ;  then  she  found  her- 
self upon  the  threshold  of  the  drawing-room,  with 
a  beautiful  old  lady  coming  forward  to  meet  her. 
It  needed  but  one  look  at  the  trim,  upright  fig- 
ure, at  the  sweet  face,  with  its  white  curls  sur- 
mounted with  a  tiny  square  of  choice  old  lace, 
to  assure  Margaret  that  this  was  the  mother  of 
whom  Mr.  Atherton  had  spoken  so  often  and  so 
lovingly.  A  second  look  told  her  that  the  faces 
of  mother  and  son  were  much  alike,  both  in  feature 
and  expression. 

"You  are  welcome,  Miss  Davis,"  Grandma 
Atherton  said  gently ;  then,  as  she  looked  at  the 
fresh  young  face  before  her,  she  suddenly  forgot 
her  more  formal  greeting  and,  leaning  forward, 
she  pressed  her  lips  to  Margaret's  cheek,  in  a 


50  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

motherly  caress,  while  she  added,  "  I  hope  you 
may  be  very  happy  here  with  us,  my  dear." 

The  rest  of  the  evening  was  always  a  vague 
dream  to  Margaret.  Already  she  found  herself 
reacting  from  the  excitement  of  the  past  two 
weeks,  and  she  felt  strangely  tired  and  dull.  She 
knew  that  she  was  introduced  to  deaf  old  Grandpa 
Atherton;  she  knew  that  the  children  were 
brought  forward  and  presented  to  her,  and  she 

% 

realized  gratefully  that  kind  Grandma  Atherton 
and  Gerald  were  trying  to  make  her  feel  at  home ; 
but  as  soon  as  she  could,  she  excused  herself,  and 
asked  to  be  shown  the  way  to  her  room. 

Grandma  Atherton  went  with  her,  to  see  that  all 
was  in  order ;  then,  when  the  last  good-night  was 
said  and  the  door  had  closed  behind  her  hostess, 
Margaret  dropped  into  the  nearest  chair  and  stared 
blankly  about  her,  trying  to  realize  the  sudden 
change  in  her  surroundings.  She  looked  at  the 
unopened  trunks,  at  the  high  mahogany  bedstead 
with  its  graceful  canopy  and  soft  white  draperies, 
irresistibly  reminding  her  of  an  altar  raised  to  the 
god  of  sleep;  and,  for  one  short  moment,  she  had 
a  twinge  of  homesickness,  the  first  and  the  last 
which  she  was  ever  to  know  in  that  house. 

"  I  wish  mother  and  Elinor  could  see  me  now," 


THE   MESSAGE   OF    THE    HOSES.  51 

she  thought  to  herself  a  little  later,  as,  after  one 
or  two  vain  attempts  to  climb  into  bed,  she  drew 
up  a  chair  and  stepped  into  that,  preparatory  to 
mounting  higher.  "I  don't  believe  they  would 
feel  so  sorry  for  me,  and  say  I  was  to  be  a  nurse- 
maid. There ! "  she  added,  as  she  finished  her 
toilsome  ascent  and  lay  down  among  the  feathers, 
which  surged  high  about  her ;  "  if  this  is  a  sample 
of  the  bed  I've  made,  I'm  perfectly 'willing  to  lie 
in  it  —  if  only  I  don't  smother  before  morning." 
And  in  another  five  minutes,  she  had  drifted  away 
into  a  quiet,  restful  sleep,  only  broken  by  happy 
dreams  that  once  more  she  and  Hugh  had  met. 


CHAPTER  III. 

NEW   FRIENDS. 

BOBBIE  and  the  boys  were  unusually  prompt  in 
answering  the  summons  to  breakfast,  the  next 
morning.  As  a  rule,  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  get 
them  up  in  time  for  the  meal.  Little  short  of  an 
earthquake  could  rouse  Bobbie  from  her  sound 
sleep  of  healthy  childhood;  and  Jack  had  an 
exasperating  fashion  of  answering,  "  Yes,  we're 
'most  ready,"  to  the  maid  who  rapped  at  his  door, 
and  then  rolling  over  and  falling  to  sleep  again, 
while  Danf orth  dozed  away,  in  happy  unconscious- 
ness of  any  interruption  to  his  dreams.  However, 
curiosity  is  often  a  powerful  stimulant ;  and,  on 
this  particular  morning,  the  children  were  gath- 
ered in  the  dining-room  fully  half  an  hour  before 
the  breakfast-bell. 

"  She  isn't  so  bad  for  a  woman,"  Jack  was  say- 
ing, with  infinite  condescension.  "  I  don't  see 
what  struck  Uncle  Jerry  to  take  her,  when  he 


NEW    FRIENDS.  53 

started  for  a  man ;  but  there's  one  good  thing,  we 
shall  have  an  easier  time  of  it." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure,"  counselled  Bobbie  sagely. 
"Miss  Pond  was  ever  so  much  worse  than  Mr. 
Dufferin.  She  used  to  scold  us,  'most  every  day." 

"  You  most  likely  needed  it  oftener  than  we 
did,"  suggested  Danforth  unkindly.  "  I  never 
noticed  that  Duffy  was  any  too  mild;  did  you, 
Jack  ?  I  like  the  looks  of  Miss  Davis,  though." 

"  She  isn't  really  pretty,"  said  Bobbie  critically. 
"  Her  mouth  is  too  large,  and  her  nose  is  sort  of 
puggy.  I  think  it  must  be  her  gown  that  makes 
her  look  so  well ;  that  makes  all  the  difference  in 
the  world."  And  this  acute  observer  of  woman- 
kind smoothed  down  her  brown  camel's-hair,  with 
perfect  content. 

"  Trust  a  girl  for  knowing  all  about  clothes  !  " 
said  Jack  scornfully.  "  I  don't  know  a  thing  she 
had  on  ;  but  I  think  she's  pretty,  and  she  looks  as 
if  she  had  some  fun  in  her.  She  can't  be  worse 
than  Duffy,  at  any  rate,  and  I  believe  we're  going 
to  like  her." 

In  the  meantime,  the  subject  of  these  remarks 
was  already  stirring  in  her  own  room.  Her  long 
night's  sleep  had  left  her  feeling  rested  and  re- 
freshed ;  and  as  she  stood  before  the  mirror,  braid- 


54  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

ing  her  yellow  hair,  she  felt  fully  prepared  to 
enter  upon  her  new  duties.  When  she  finished 
dressing,  she  crossed  the  room  and  stood  by  the 
open  window,  gazing  down  the  valley  before  her, 
at  the  lovely  views  of  hill  and  river,  and  at  the 
white  smoke  which  hung  over  the  city  across  the 
water  that  went  bubbling  and  foaming  and  rush- 
ing over  the  rocks  in  the  ravine,  close  at  her  feet. 
Captain  Atherton  had  made  a  wise  choice  when 
he  selected  the  site  for  his  house.  It  stood  alone 
upon  a  little  bluff  commanding  the  valley  and 
the  group  of  simpler  houses  clustered  about  the 
foot  of  the  hill ;  and  it  reminded  Margaret  of 
the  castle  of  an  old  feudal  lord,  surrounded  by 
the  houses  of  his  vassals. 

But  the  breakfast-bell  rang  to  call  her  from  the 
picture ;  so  she  turned  away  and  slowly  went 
down  the  stairs  to  the  dining-room.  It  was  a  fine 
old  room,  with  its  great  open  fireplace,  its  oak  fur- 
niture dark  with  age,  the  rare  line  engravings  on 
the  wall,  and  the  table,  covered  with  its  snowy 
cloth  and  set  with  the  finest  old  blue  china,  not 
an  odd  piece  here  and  there,  but  a  complete  ser- 
vice of  arching  bridges  and  kissing  swallows. 
Grandma  Atherton  was  already  in  her  place 
behind  the  huge  silver  coffee-urn  which  had  done 


NEW   FRIENDS.  55 

duty  for  four  generations  of  Athertons ;  but 
Grandpa  Atherton  was  still  lingering  before  the 
fire,  toasting  himself  until  the  room  was  filled 
with  the  odor  of  singeing  wool. 

No  one  who  looked  at  Grandpa  Atherton  would 
have  thought  him  the  descendant  of  one  of  the 
oldest  and  best  of  New  Hampshire's  fine  old 
families,  which  traced  its  ancestry  to  the  May- 
flower and  across  the  seas  into  England.  At  a 
first  glance,  he  was  not  imposing;  in  fact,. 'he 
bordered  upon  the  ridiculous.  He  had  been  tall 
and  straight,  in  his  early  manhood,  with  a  proud, 
clear-cut  face  under  a  mass  of  dark  brown  hair ; 
but  old  age  had  left  many  a  mark  upon  his  face 
and  figure,  while  the  brown  hair  had  fallen  away 
until  the  crown  of  his  head  was  as  bare  and 
smooth  as  a  sheet  of  ice,  and  only  gained  an 
artificial  covering  by  the  long  locks  over  his  ears, 
which  were  drawn  up  to  meet  above,  and  care- 
fully braided  into  a  little  close  knot. 

Moreover,  Grandpa  Atherton  had  a  strong  affec- 
tion for  long-tailed,  flowered  dressing-gowns  of  gor- 
geous tints,  which  he  wore  continually,  both  at  home 
and  upon  the  street,  and  only  laid  aside  on  Sunday 
for  the  short  hour  when  he  was  in  church.  Added 
to  this  was  his  extreme  deafness,  and  his  invariable 


56  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

habit  of  forgetting  his  ear-trumpet  until  the  con- 
versation was  well  under  way,  when  he  would  break 
in  upon  the  full  tide  of  argument,  and  remorse- 
lessly force  the  speakers  to  begin  again  at  the  very 
beginning  and  repeat  it  all  to  him,  bit  by  bit. 

Quick-tempered  and  tyrannical  as  Grandpa 
Atherton  certainly  was  at  times,  he  was  honor- 
able and  just  to  the  last  degree ;  and  was  more- 
over, though  unknown  to  himself,  ruled  and 
guided  by  the  lightest  word  of  his  one  living 
child.  What  Gerald  said  and  thought  and  did, 
was  to  Grandpa  Atherton  the  only  right  thing  to 
say  and  think  and  do.  Unfortunately  he  was  not 
of  the  same  mind  in  regard  to  his  grandsons. 
It  had  been  very  hard  for  Grandpa  Atherton  to 
give  up  the  traditions  of  his  own  boyhood,  and 
adopt  the  more  progressive  point  of  view  of 
Young  America ;  and  he  had  only  partially  suc- 
ceeded in  doing  so.  And  yet,  in  spite  of  himself 
he  was  often  moved  to  a  quick  admiration  for 
Jack's  spirit  and  independence,  even  though  their 
wills  constantly  clashed.  At  heart  he  was  con- 
scious that  Jack  was  his  favorite;  and  he  could 
never  explain  his  son's  liking  for  Danforth,  whose 
shy  sensitiveness  was  a  source  of  continual  irri- 
tation to  Grandpa  Atherton's  mind. 


NEW   FRIENDS.  57 

As  Margaret  took  her  place  at  the  table  between 
Grandma  Atherton  and  her  son,  she  was  both 
amused  and  slightly  embarrassed  to  find  herself 
under  the  close  scrutiny  of  three  pairs  of  eyes ; 
for  the  children,  just  across  the  table  from  her, 
appeared  to  be  bent  upon  determining  what  sort 
of  a  person  this  was,  who  was  to  have  the  charge 
of  them.  But,  little  by  little,  they  became  inter- 
ested in  their  breakfast,  and  in  the  talk  which 
was  going  on  about  the  table,  until  at  length 
Margaret  could  take  her  turn  to  study  them, 
unobserved.  Bobbie  who  sat  directly  opposite, 
had  a  dark,  pretty  little  face  and  an  eager,  wide- 
awake manner  peculiarly  her  own.  She  was  never 
shy,  and  there  was  a  bright  decision  in  her  ways 
which  was  as  amusing  as  was  her  ready  indepen- 
dence of  thought  and  speech. 

From  Bobbie,  Margaret's  eyes  moved  to  her  two 
brothers,  seated  one  on  either  side  of  her.  To 
Jack  she  was  attracted  at  once,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  they  were  exchanging  smiles  and  an  occa- 
sional word  or  two  across  the  table.  Jack  looked  at 
least  a  year  the  older  of  the  brothers,  for  he  was 
more  strongly  built,  a  sturdy,  rollicking  boy  of  iif- 
teen  who  appeared  to  be  on  excellent  terms  with 
the  world  and  all  that  was  therein.  He  was  an  un- 


58  MARGARET    DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

usually  handsome  boy,  with  a  rich,  dark  beauty  that 
told  of  abundant  health  and  activity,  as  if  he  were 
the  child  of  a  more  tropical  region,  who  had  but 
lately  strayed  to  rugged  New  Hampshire.  There 
was  a  strong  resemblance  between  Jack  and  his 
sister,  while  Danforth,  at  Bobbie's  other  hand, 
looked  like  the  child  of  another  race.  Though  as 
tall  as  Jack,  he  was  much  slighter  and  more  deli- 
cate looking,  graceful  in  figure  and  refined  in  face, 
although  without  a  hint  of  Jack's  proud  beauty. 
His  freckled,  oval  face,  with  its  straight,  closely- 
cut  yellow  hair  and  thin  red  lips,  was  only  saved 
from  being  actually  plain  by  a  pair  of  dark  violet 
eyes,  which  looked  deprecatingly  out  upon  the 
world  from  behind  a  pair  of  round-eyed,  gold-bowed 
spectacles.  These  spectacles  were  at  once  the  woe 
and  the  joy  of  Danforth's  soul.  Six  months  before, 
Uncle  Jerry,  after  watching  the  boy  for  a  few 
weeks,  had  carried  him  off  to  a  New  York  ocu- 
list who  had  proclaimed  him  abnormally  near- 
sighted, and  had  promptly  put  him  into  glasses. 
It  had  been  a  wise  measure ;  but  Danforth  was 
even  now  unable  to  decide  whether  his  present 
ease  of  vision  was  enough  to  balance  the  mortifica- 
tion of  having  to  go  back  to  school,  on  his  return, 
and  answer  to  the  manifold  questions  and  com- 


NEW   FRIENDS.  59 

ments  of  the  boys.  But  after  Jack  had  valiantly 
cuffed  the  first  two  or  three  of  these  who  had  ven- 
tured to  express  their  disapproval,  Danforth  was 
left  in  peace  once  more,  except  for  the  occasional 
teasing  of  Bobbie,  who  declared  that  she  would 
never  forgive  him  for  making  such  a  grandmother 
of  himself. 

"  Now,  children,"  said  Uncle  Jerry,  as  they  rose 
from  the  table,  "  I  leave  Miss  Davis  in  your  care 
to-day,  and  you  must  see  that  she  isn't  homesick. 
Let  her  get  acquainted  with  you  and  with  the 
place  here ;  and  then,  next  week,  you  can  begin 
your  lessons." 

"  All  right.  What  would  you  like  to  do  first, 
Miss  Davis  ?  "  inquired  Jack  comprehensively. 

*'  Everything,  all  at  once,"  she  answered,  with  a 
gay  little  laugh  which  promptly  ranged  Jack  upon 
her  side. 

"  Then  come  out  and  see  our  ponies ;  and  Dan 
and  I  have  a  fine  trapeze  under  the  shed.  Do  you 
like  athletics  ?  " 

"  That  depends,"  she  replied,  much  amused  by 
the  boy's  eager  friendliness.  "I  don't  do  much 
but  skate  and  play  tennis,  though  I  did  bring  a 
pair  of  Indian  clubs  with  me.  But  I  know  enough 
to  keep  a  score-card  at  a  ball-game." 


60  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"Honestly?"  And  Jack  stared  at  his  new  tutor 
with  undisguised  admiration.  Then  he  went  on, 
with  striking  frankness,  "Why,  I  don't  see  but 
you're  about  as  good  as  the  Yale  man  that  wanted 
to  come.  Dan  and  I  were  no  end  disappointed 
when  Uncle  Jerry  didn't  take  him  ;  but  if  you  care 
for  such  things,  you'll  be  just  as  well.  We'll  show 
you  how  to  perform  on  the  trapeze,  and  you  can 
do  it  just  as  easy  as  anything." 

"  Oh,  Jack,"  interrupted  Bobbie  ;  "  do  stop  talk- 
ing such  nonsense.  Miss  Davis  doesn't  want  to 
go  gymnasticating  with  you  ;  she'd  much  rather  see 
the  house  and  the  old  pictures ;  wouldn't  you,  Miss 
Davis?" 

For  a  moment,  Margaret  hesitated ;  then  she  re- 
flected that  Jack's  frankly-offered  friendship  was 
not  to  be  thrown  away,  so  she  answered,  — 

"  Jack  spoke  first,  Bobbie ;  so  suppose  we  all  go 
with  him  now.  We  can  see  the  house  later,  for  I 
truly  do  want  to  go  over  it,"  she  added  kindly,  as 
she  saw  Bobbie's  disappointed  face. 

"  Ah  ha,  Bob ;  you've  lost  your  innings  !  "  said 
Jack  triumphantly.  "Come  on,  Miss  Davis." 
And  he  led  the  way  out  to  the  lawn  in  front  of 
the  house,  with  Margaret  following  close  at  his 
side. 


NEW   FRIENDS.  61 

It  was  hard  to  say  just  wherein  lay  Margaret's 
attraction  for  children.  Perhaps  it  came  from  her 
perfect  understanding  of  them,  her  perfect  sympa- 
thy with  them  and  with  their  interests.  She  was 
rarely  conscious  of  making  any  effort  to  meet  them 
upon  their  own  ground,  or  of  trying  to  gain  any 
control  over  them;  and  yet,  wherever  she  went, 
she  was  usually  surrounded  by  a  flock  of  children, 
and  was  the  central  figure  in  all  their  fun. 

"Margaret  is  just  like  Castoria,"  Molly  used 
to  say ;  "  children  all  cry  for  her." 

Margaret  herself  often  regretted  her  lack  of 
dignity.  At  twenty-five  she  was  at  heart  as  much 
a  girl  as  she  had  been  at  sixteen,  and  nothing  but 
the  consciousness  of  her  quarter  of  a  century  kept 
her  from  indulging  in  all  sorts  of  school-girl 
pranks.  Nevertheless,  her  child  friends  never 
took  liberties  with  her.  They  treated  her  like 
one  of  themselves,  yet  far  above  themselves,  and 
her  simple,  "  I  wouldn't  do  so,  dear,"  outweighed 
many  a  parental  lecture. 

Children  are  close  critics  of  us  older  people,  quick 
to  see  through  sham  dignity  and  false  standards  of 
right  and  wrong ;  and  if  any  one  of  us  is  able  to  bear 
the  test  of  their  searching  scrutiny  and  come  out 
of  it  with  their  respect  and  love,  we  may  feel  that 


62  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

we  have  gained  one  of  the  honors  of  the  earth. 
They  have  their  own  standards,  and  they  weigh 
us  by  them.  If  we  pass  their  examination,  and 
once  win  their  friendship,  we  find  it  true  and 
lasting. 

Jack  had  been  the  first  to  feel  Margaret's 
charm.  During  the  past  week,  he  had  become 
somewhat  resigned  to  the  idea  of  a  tutor,  since 
it  could  not  fail  to  give  him  greater  freedom  than 
he  had  known  in  school  where,  though  he  had 
been  a  favorite  with  Mr.  Dufferin,  he  had  hated 
him  cordially  for  his  injustice  to  his  more  timid 
brother.  His  one  regret,  that  Margaret  was  not  a 
man,  had  quickly  vanished  at  her  coming  ;  and  by 
the  time  breakfast  was  over,  that  morning,  he  was 
ready  to  swear  allegiance  to  this  bright-faced 
little  woman  who  had  met  his  advances  so  warmly. 
There  was  a  Hearty  sincerity  about  the  boy,  which 
Margaret  liked,  and  she  had  felt  attracted  to  him 
at  the  first;  so  it  seemed  perfectly  natural  that 
they  should  stroll  off  across  the  lawn  together, 
talking  like  old  friends,  while  Bobbie  and  Dan- 
forth  followed  them  at  a  little  distance. 

"  Here's  Bobbie's  swing,"  Jack  was  saying,  as 
they  paused  under  a  great  arching  elm ;  "  and 
over  there,  on  that  bank,  we  had  a  toboggan  chute 


NEW    FKIENDS.  63 

last  winter;  but  Dan  ran  off  it  and  was  'most 
killed,  so  grandpa  made  us  have  it  taken  down. 
Perhaps,  if  you're  very  fond  of  tobogganing,  he'll 
let  us  have  it  put  up  again  this  year,  though," 
he  added  roguishly,  as  he  smiled  suggestively  up 
at  his  companion. 

"  I  don't  think  I  ca/e  enough  about  it  to  run 
the  risk  of  Dan  getting  his  neck  broken,"  she 
said  laughing.  "  But  what  a  dear  pony !  "  she 
exclaimed,  as  her  escort  led  her  across  the  lawn 
and,  stopping  at  a  low  fence,  called  to  a  little 
brown  pony  that  was  nibbling  the  grass  in  the 
field  beyond. 

"Yes,  this  is  Brownie  Bell,  my  own  pony," 
said  Jack  proudly,  while  he  stroked  the  pretty 
creature's  neck.  "  Just  notice  that  white  star  in 
her  forehead;  they're  the  only  white  hairs  she 
has  anywhere  on  her.  Duke,  the  black  one  over 
there,  is  Dan's.  He's  prettier  than  Brownie ;  but 
he's  cross  sometimes,  and  grandpa  wants  Uncle 
Jerry  to  sell  him.  Dan  isn't  a  bit  afraid  of  him, 
though." 

"What  does  he  do?"  inquired  Margaret 
curiously,  as  she  turned  to  Danforth  who  had 
come  forward  and  was  leaning  on  the  fence  at 
her  other  side.  "  I've  never  had  anything  to  do 


64  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOB. 

with  horses,  myself,  and  I  don't  know  much  about 
them." 

"  Oh,  he  rears  a  little  sometimes ;  and  once  he 
was  cross  when  I  took  him  out,  and  bolted,"  he 
answered  shyly.  "  That  was  ever  so  long  ago ; 
but  it  frightened  grandma,  and  she  and  grandpa 
have  never  thought  he  .was  quite  safe,  since 
then." 

"And  aren't  you  ever  at  all  afraid?"  asked 
Margaret,  trying  to  draw  him  on  to  talk  with  her, 
for  she  liked  the  boy's  gentle  manner,  and  she 
suddenly  recalled  his  uncle's  speaking  of  the 
matter-of-course  Avay  in  which  he  took  his  place 
in  the  background.  Whenever  she  had  looked 
at  him  that  morning,  she  had  found  him  gazing 
at  her  intently;  but  he  had  made  no  advances. 
Now  she  reproved  herself  for  having  given  all 
her  attention  to  Jack,  when  she  had  been  warned 
that  Danforth  was  to  be  her  especial  care. 

"  Oh,  no ;  why  should  I  ?  "  he  answered,  with  a 
little  look  of  surprise.  "  Duke  knows  that  I'm  his 
master,  and  that  he  must  mind  me.  He  won't  let 
Jack  ride  him  at  all ;  but  I  can  do  anything  with 
him  that  I  choose.  See  here ! "  And  Danforth 
stepped  to  the  top  of  the  fence,  called  the  pony  to 
him,  vaulted  on  to  his  bare  back  and  went  gallop- 


NEW   FEIENDS.  65 

ing  away  across  the  field,  followed  by  the  other 
ponies  in  hot  pursuit. 

"The  little  gray  one  is  mine,"  explained  Bobbie. 
"  She's  old,  and  I  mean  to  have  a  new  one,  some 
day;  but  Uncle  Jerry  says  I  must  wait  till  I'm 
older  and  stronger.  The  other  three  are  all  car- 
riage horses ;  we  haven't  but  six  in  all." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Davis,  don't  you  want  to  try  Lady 
Jane  ? "  asked  Jack  eagerly.  "  She's  a  splendid 
woman's  horse,  and  Dan  or  I  could  go  out  with 
you,  if  you  don't  know  the  roads  round  here." 

"  What  fun !  "  she  answered  quite  as  eagerly. 
"  I  wish  I  could,  but  I've  never  tried  riding  in  my 
life,  and  I  don't  know  anything  at  all  about  it." 

"Lady  Jane  is  perfectly  safe,"  said  Danforth, 
who  had  trotted  back  to  them  once  more,  and 
guided  Duke  up  to  the  fence  to  let  Margaret 
stroke  his  nose,  an  attention  which  he  returned  by 
promptly  snapping  at  her.  "  You'll  feel  comforta- 
ble with  her  as  soon  as  you  get  into  the  saddle." 

"  But  I  never  was  in  a  saddle,"  protested  Mar- 
garet, though  she  looked  with  longing  eyes  at  the 
demure  little  gray  pony  who  had  strolled  across  to 
the  fence.  "  I'm  afraid  I  should  fall  off ;  but  I'd 
like  to  try." 

"  How  funny  that  you  never  rode ! "  remarked 


66  MAKGAKET   DAVIS,    TUTOK. 

Bobbie,  with  a  little  air  of  superiority.  "  Every- 
body does  here." 

"  No ;  they  don't  either,  Bob,"  said  Jack,  nettled 
at  his  sister's  tone.  "  And  even  if  they  did,  it's 
no  sign  that  they  do  it  everywhere.  I'll  tell  you 
what,  Miss  Davis,  we'll  go  round  and  see  the  barn 
and  trapeze  and  things ;  then  Bobbie  can  put  you 
into  her  riding  skirt  while  we  saddle  Lady  Jane, 
and  we'll  give  you  a  lesson  in  the  noble  art  of  rid- 
ing. It's  only  fair,"  he  added,  with  a  laugh. 
"Your  turn  is  coming,  next  week,  and  then  we 
shall  have  to  put  up  with  lessons  from  you,  the 
whole  time." 

Then  he  led  the  way  into  the  vast  barn,  with  its 
large  mows  piled  high  with  the  summer's  hay,  and 
out  into  the  low,  square  corn  house  where  the 
golden  and  red  ears  peeped  out  between  the  cracks 
in  the  bins.  Grandpa  Atherton  owned  a  rich  old 
farm  which  stretched  far  across  the  plain  at  the 
back  of  the  house,  and  his  head  farmer  was  as 
proud  of  his  orderly  barns  as  a  young  housekeeper 
would  be  of  her  well-kept  china-closet.  Jack  was  a 
thorough  host,  and  every  nook  and  corner  had  to 
be  visited  before  he  could  feel  that  his  duty  was 
done ;  but  at  length  he  brought  Margaret  out  by  a 
little  door  which  led  into  the  carriage  shed,  and 


NEW    FUIENDS.  67 

allowed  her  to  pause  for  breath,  while  he  ex- 
plained to  her  their  somewhat  complicated  trapeze. 

"But  what  do  you  do  with  it?"  she  asked 
vaguely,  at  the  end  of  a  long  and  minute  explana- 
tion. 

"  Wait  and  see.  You  sit  down  there ;  or  no, 
you'd  better  get  up  here,  for  you  can  watch  us 
better."  And  Jack  pointed  to  an  ancient  chaise, 
which  might  have  been  the  Deacon's  Masterpiece, 
returned  to  its  original  unbroken  condition. 

"It  was  the  one  Great-grandpa  Atherton  had 
when  he  was  married,"  explained  Bobbie,  as  she 
helped  Margaret  to  climb  into  the  tall,  swaying 
old  carriage,  and  took  her  seat  beside  her.  "  I've 
heard  grandpa  tell  all  about  it,  how  his  father 
wore  a  blue  velvet  coat  with  lace  ruffles  in  the 
sleeves,  and  the  horses  —  they  had  two,  one  in 
front  of  the  other,  for  the  wedding  —  had  long 
white  ribbons  hanging  from  their  ears.  Just  think 
how  lovely ! "  And  Bobbie  gave  a  rapturous  wig- 
gle, which  set  the  old  chaise  to  rocking  upon  the 
leathern  straps  that  served  as  springs.  "  Did  any 
of  your  grandfathers  fight  in  the  Revolution?" 
she  asked  suddenly. 

"Only  one,  and  he  was  nothing  but  a  great- 
uncle,"  replied  Margaret,  smiling  as  she  watched 


68  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOli. 

the  child's  face  change  at  the  admission.  "But 
my  great-great-grandfather  signed  the  Declara- 
tion," she  added  mischievously,  for  she  was  much 
amused  by  this  small  disciple  of  America's  aristoc- 
racy. 

"  Oh,  come  off  there,  Bob ! "  exclaimed  Jack 
irreverently.  "  What  do  you  suppose  Miss  Davis 
cares  about  our  ancestors'  best  clothes?  She'd 
much  better  ask  what  their  children  can  do.  I 
don't  want  to  live  on  my  grandfather's  greatness ; 
I'd  rather  have  some  new  bones  of  my  own." 

"  Is  that  the  reason  you're  trying  to  break  those 
you  have  ? "  inquired  Bobbie,  in  no  wise  ruffled 
by  Jack's  scorn.  "  Remember  how  you  fell  down 
and  scraped  the  skin  all  off  your  nose,  the  last 
time  you  tried  the  parallel  bars,  and  be  a  little 
careful  to-day." 

For  half  an  hour  longer,  Margaret  sat  there  in 
state  and,  all  regardless  of  the  hayseed  which  had 
sifted  down  into  her  hair,  and  the  wisps  of  straw 
that  fringed  her  dark  blue  gown,  she  watched  the 
two  boys  while  they  went  through  a  series  of  evo- 
lutions which,  to  her  untutored  eye,  appeared  to 
be  especially  designed  for  the  purpose  of  dislocat- 
ing their  necks.  To  her  surprise,  she  discovered 
that  Danforth  was  quite  as  energetic  and  daring 


NEW  FRIENDS.  69 

as  his  brother ;  and  she  soon  found  that,  when 
once  he  became  interested  in  his  sport  and  uncon- 
scious of  himself,  his  face  lighted  and  grew  almost 
handsome.  The  longer  she  studied  the  boy,  the 
more  she  liked  him.  Underneath  all  his  shy  awk- 
wardness of  manner,  she  could  see  a  native  refine- 
ment and  delicacy ;  and  his  face,  though  a  little 
weak,  was  true  and  good.  She  was  still  wonder- 
ing how  she  could  best  make  friends  with  him, 
when  Jack  came  leaping  down  to  the  floor  again, 
and  paused  before  her,  cap  in  hand,  looking  glori- 
ously strong  and  rosy  and  alive. 

"  The  show  is  ended,  ma'am,"  he  said.  "  Don't 
you  see  what  good  fun  it  is  ?  Now,  Bobbie,  you 
go  and  get  your  riding-skirt  for  her,  and  we  fel- 
lows will  have  Lady  Jane  ready  by  the  time  you 
are." 

"Be  sure  you  buckle  the  saddle  tighter  than 
you  did  for  me,  last  time,"  cautioned  Bobbie.  "  It 
slipped,  when  I  was  over  in  Riverton,  and  I  had 
to  get  a  man  to  tighten  it  for  me.  Lady  Jane 
doesn't  like  to  have  her  saddle  on,"  she  explained 
to  Margaret,  as  she  led  the  way  back  to  the  house; 
"  so  she  holds  her  breath  and  swells  out,  to  keep 
the  girths  from  being  tight  enough  to  hold." 

Ten  minutes  later  Margaret  stood  on  the  steps, 


70  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

bareheaded  and  with  Bobbie's  green  skirt  slipped 
on  underneath  her  own  blue  waist. 

"  I  think  I  must  be  a  remarkable  spectacle,"  she 
confessed,  in  an  apologetic  aside  to  Grandma 
Atherton,  who  had  come  to  the  door  to  watch  the 
mounting ;  "  but  I've  given  myself  unreservedly 
into  the  children's  hands,  this  morning.  I  thought 
it  was  the  best  way  to  get  acquainted  with  them." 

Grandma  Atherton  smiled  in  perfect  approval. 

"  It's  just  what  they  need,  Miss  Davis,"  she  said ; 
"  and  the  more  you  can  be  like  an  older  sister  to 
them,  the  better  we  shall  all  be  pleased.  "Tisn't 
for  the  lessons  alone  that  we  want  you;  I  hope 
you'll  make  little  men  and  women  of  my  children, 
not  mere  scholars.  Jack,  is  that  saddle  all 
strong  ?  " 

"  It's  all  right,  grandma,  I've  looked  out  for  it," 
he  answered,  turning  instantly  with  the  pretty 
deference  which  both  the  boys  always  gave  her. 
"  Come,  Miss  Davis."  And  he  led  Lady  Jane  up 
beside  the  low  block  of  stone  in  front  of  the 
steps. 

"  But  how  do  I  get  on  her  ?  "  asked  Margaret, 
looking  anxiously  up  at  the  saddle  which  appeared 
to  be  several  rods  above  her  reach. 

"  Put  your  foot  in  the  stirrup,  and  swing  your- 


NEW   FRIENDS.  71 

self  up,"  instructed  Jack.  "  Here,  Dan,  you  hold 
the  stirrup  for  her,  so.  Now,  one,  two,  three  !  " 

Obeying  his  tone  and  gesture,  Margaret  put  her 
toe  into  the  stirrup,  clutched  Lady  Jane's  white 
mane  and  attempted  to  leap  into  the  saddle  as  she 
had  seen  Danforth  do.  She  only  succeeded  in 
bumping  herself  against  Lady  Jane's  smooth  flank, 
and  scraping  her  elbow  on  the  edge  of  the  saddle. 

"  Once  more,"  said  Jack  encouragingly.  "  You'll 
get  there  this  time.  Now ! " 

This  time  she  sprang  a  little  higher  and  landed, 
face  down,  across  the  saddle.  She  clung  there  for 
a  moment,  and  then  slowly  slipped  down  again  to 
the  ground. 

"  See,  Miss  Davis ! "  And  with  one  little  wriggle 
and  spring,  Bobbie  was  in  her  place.  "  Now,"  she 
added,  as  she  jumped  down  again  ;  "  put  your  foot 
in  here,  so,  and  your  right  hand  up,  like  this. 
Then  give  a  little  jump,  not  too  hard  a  one,  for 
you  might  go  clear  across  her,  and  fall  down,  the 
other  side.  I  did  once." 

"  I'm  afraid  it's  no  go,"  said  Jack  ruefully,  after 
he  had  watched  Margaret  through  several  more 
attempts.  "If  you  could  only  get  on  board,  I 
know  you'd  stay  there ;  but  I  don't  just  see  how 
to  get  you  up,  in  the  first  place." 


72  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"  You  might  take  her  out  to  the  barn,  and  she 
could  climb  up  on  a  hay-mow  and  slide  down  into 
the  saddle,"  suggested  Bobbie,  who  was  unable 
longer  to  conceal  her  amusement. 

"  Why  not  bring  out  a  chair  ? "  proposed 
Grandma  Atherton  from  the  doorway,  where  she 
made  a  pretty  picture,  with  her  white  curls  just 
stirred  by  the  breeze,  and  a  chuddah  shawl 
wrapped  closely  about  her  shoulders. 

"  I  know  the  very  thing,"  said  Danforth  sud- 
denly. "  Wait  just  a  minute."  And  he  rushed 
into  the  house,  to  reappear  again  with  a  low  step- 
ladder  in  his  arms. 

"  But  won't  Lady  Jane  resent  such  a  proceed- 
ing ? "  asked  Margaret,  looking  distrustfully  at 
her  ladyship,  who  was  growing  impatient  over 
this  prolonged  operation  of  mounting. 

"  Oh,  no ;  she's  a  dear,  and  used  to  anything," 
said  Bobbie,  while  Danforth  planted  the  ladder 
firmly  in  the  middle  of  the  driveway,  and  Jack  led 
Lady  Jane  forward  to  this  improvised  mounting- 
block.  "  Now,  Jack,  you  hold  her  head,  and  I  '11 
keep  her  from  backing  round  sideways.  Dan,  you 
get  Miss  Davis  across  into  the  saddle." 

With  an  amused  glance  back  at  Grandma  Ather- 
ton, Margaret  mounted  the  ladder  and,  clinging  to 


NEW   FRIENDS.  73 

Danforth's  sustaining  hand,  she  cautiously  crawled 
across  into  the  saddle.  The  next  moment,  she 
gave  a  little  mortified  laugh,  and  backed  off  on  to 
the  ladder  again ;  for  she  had  found  herself  seated 
upright  with  her  face  pointed  straight  towards 
Lady  Jane's  tail. 

"  Laugh,  if  you  want  to,"  she  said  gayly.  "  It 
doesn't  hurt  my  feelings  a  bit,  and  I'm  going  to 
get  the  knack  of  it  in  time." 

"You're  all  right,"  said  Danforth  hopefully. 
"  Try  it  again." 

She  did  try  it  again,  and  landed  devoutly  on  her 
knees,  sideways  in  the  saddle,  with  her  flowing 
robe  so  twisted  about  her  feet  that  she  was  unable 
to  turn  around  into  her  place.  However,  the 
third  attempt  proved  to  be  successful,  as  it  usually 
does ;  and  after  all  her  struggles,  Margaret  at  last 
found  herself  seated  properly,  with  her  eyes  on 
Lady  Jane's  ears,  and  one  hand  clutching  her  mane 
so  fiercely  that  it  threatened  to  be  torn  from  the 
skin.  With  one  or  two  deft  touches,  Danforth 
drew  her  skirt  into  place,  and  settled  her  foot 
in  the  stirrup. 

"  Thank  you,  Dan,"  she  said  gratefully,  as  she 
bent  down  as  far  as  she  dared,  and  let  go  her  hold 
upon  Lady  Jane  long  enough  to  rest  her  bare  hand 


74  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

lightly  on  the  smooth  yellow  head  beside  her. 
"  You  are  a  most  devoted  young  squire." 

The  color  rushed  to  the  boy's  face,  as  his  eyes 
met  hers  in  one  quick  glance ;  but  he  made  no 
other  answer. 

"All  ready?"  asked  Jack. 

"  Oh,  don't  let  her  go ! "  And  she  clutched 
the  reins  again. 

"She's  as  safe  as  a  meeting-house,"  said  Jack, 
laughing ;  "  but  if  you're  afraid  one  little  bit, 
we'll  lead  her,  this  time."  And  the  cavalcade 
moved  off,  with  Margaret  on  her  lofty  perch,  rock- 
ing to  and  fro  as  unsteadily  as  a  yacht  in  a  heavy 
sea,  while  Danforth  walked  at  her  side,  to  be 
within  reach  in  case  she  slipped. 

They  took  a  few  turns  up  and  down  the  lawn ; 
then  Jack  started  off  down  the  long  drive. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Jack?"  she  asked 
anxiously,  as  he  turned  out  into  the  road. 

"  Only  down  to  the  corner,  to  meet  Uncle 
Jerry,"  he  answered.  "It's  time  for  him  to  be 
coming  home  to  lunch,  and  I  want  him  to  see  how 
splendidly  you're  getting  on." 

"  Oh,  don't !  "  she  begged,  with  a  sudden  reali- 
zation of  her  undignified  appearance,  after  her 
morning's  explorations.  What  would  Mr.  Athcr- 


- 


'Here  we  are,  Uncle  Jerry." 
—Page  75. 


NEW   FUIKNDS.  75 

ton  think  of  her  ability  as  a  tutor,  if  he  beheld 
her  in  her  present  position?  "Don't  you  see  I 
haven't  any  hat  ?  "  she  urged. 

"  That's  all  right ;  this  isn't  the  city,"  said  Jack 
composedly.  "  Here,  take  my  cap,"  he  added, 
tossing  it  back  to  Bobbie  who  handed  it  to  Mar- 
garet. "  There  he  comes,  now !  Here  we  are, 
Uncle  Jerry!"  he  announced,  pausing  before  his 
uncle  while  Margaret  longed  to  hide  her  blushes, 
as  she  tried  to  smile  down  with  unembarrassed 
ease  upon  the  little  figure  in  the  road  before  her. 

To  her  surprise  and  relief,  Uncle  Jerry  did  not 
seem  at  all  shocked  at  sight  of  her.  Man-like,  he 
was  quite  unconscious  of  the  discordant  colors  of 
her  composite  gown,  and  of  the  spikes  of  hay  still 
clinging  to  her  head  and  shoulders.  He  only  saw 
her  bright,  flushed  face,  with  its  wealth  of  golden 
hair  all  loosened  about  it,  under  Jack's  light  gray 
cap  which  was  cocked  on  the  back  of  her  head ; 
and  he  appeared  to  be  perfectly  satisfied  to  find 
the  prim  duenna,  who  usually  poses  as  a  model 
teacher,  resolved  into  a  pretty  young  woman,  sur- 
rounded by  a  trio  of  eager  children. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

MARGARET  AND   HER  PUPILS. 

THE  following  Monday  morning,  Margaret  en- 
tered upon  her  new  work.  Her  knowledge  of  the 
children  had  made  rapid  strides,  during  the  past 
three  days ;  and  she  quickly  discovered  that  this 
knowledge  would  be  of  great  help  to  her  in  ar- 
ranging their  studies,  and  suiting  them  to  their 
habits  of  thought  and  their  interests.  All  in  all, 
she  liked  Jack  the  best.  Even  his  faults,  the 
faults  of  a  hot-tempered,  self-willed  boy,  were 
rendered  attractive  by  a  frank  manliness  which 
made  him  ready,  after  the  first  explosion,  to  listen 
to  reason,  repent  of  his  manifold  sins  and  take 
their  consequences. 

Bobbie,  though  the  brightest,  was  less  interest- 
ing. She  had  all  Jack's  faults,  but  not  all  of  his 
virtues,  for  she  was  a  little  vain  and  self-conscious, 
and  lacked  her  brother's  jovial  unselfishness. 
Moreover,  she  was  undeniably  lazy,  and  she  had 
a  vexatious  fashion  of  skimming  over  the  surface 

76 


MAKGAKET  AND   HER  PUPILS.  77 

of  her  world,  picking  up  a  catch-word,  here  and 
there,  which  she  had  the  tact  to  treasure  up  in  her 
mind,  and  bring  out  at  the  exact  moment  when  it 
was  calculated  to  impress  the  listener  with  her 
unusual  fund  of  information.  In  fact,  Bobbie's 
tact  often  stood  her  in  good  stead,  for  it  saved  her 
from  many  a  well-merited  lecture ;  and  many  a 
duty  unperformed  was  accounted  for  with  a  little 
word  of  explanation  and  apology  which  carried  its 
point,  in  spite  of  its  evident  lack  of  sincerity.  It 
was  not  that  she  was  untruthful.  Bobbie  never 
lied ;  but  when  she  was  in  disgrace,  she  had  a 
trick  of  cocking  her  head  on  one  side  and  casting 
down  her  eyes,  which  usually  disarmed  her  oppo- 
nent. But  when  Bobbie's  temper-  was  really 
roused,  it  was  like  the  sweep  of  a  young  tornado ; 
and  even  Jack  was  forced  to  stand  aside  and  let 
the  hurricane  rush  past  him. 

Danforth  was  still  Margaret's  unsolved  prob- 
lem. The  more  she  studied  him,  the  more  she 
admired  him  and  the  less  she  became  acquainted 
with  him.  From  the  first,  he  made  few  advances, 
but  stood  back  and  allowed  Jack  to  take  the  lead ; 
yet,  every  now  and  then,  he  would  surprise  Mar- 
garet by  some  sudden  glance  or  gesture  which 
showed  his  shy  liking  for  her,  and  his  evident 


78  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

wish  to  have  her  like  him.  By  nature  he  had  a 
much  more  even  temper  than  his  brother ;  and  he 
had  a  way  of  making  the  best  of  things,  with  a 
quiet  optimism  which  rendered  him  a  most  agree- 
able companion.  This  came  partly  from  his 
habit  of  reasoning  everything  out  to  his  own 
satisfaction,  for  both  in  his  books  and  his  home 
surroundings,  he  was  never  content  to  leave 
anything  unexplained  or  unaccounted  for.  In 
his  way,  too,  he  was  quite  as  affectionate  as  Jack 
and  much  more  unselfish.  Indeed,  his  lack  of 
self-assertion  was  his  worse  fault,  arid  he  fell  an 
easy  victim  to  Bobbie  who,  finding  it  impossible 
to  quarrel  with  him,  devised  endless  ways  to 
tease  him,  ridiculing  his  weak  points  and  oppos- 
ing his  pet  interests  until  poor  Danforth  was 
nearly  distracted,  and  Margaret  longed  for  her 
authority  to-  begin,  that  she  might  protect  him 
from  the  assaults  of  his  sister. 

On  Sunday  evening,  Gerald  had  called  Mar- 
garet away  into  the  cosy  little  library,  the  one 
modern  room  in  the  old  house,  where  the  walls 
were  lined  with  rows  of  well-selected  books,  sur- 
mounted by  a  fine  collection  of  modern  etchings, 
broken  here  and  there  by  an  ancient  wood-en- 
graving whose  coarse  crudeness  was  only  equalled 


MARGARET  AND   HER   PUPILS.  79 

by  its  value.  A  Turkish  carpet  covered  the 
floor  and  dull-hued  draperies  concealed  the  doors, 
while  a  great  table  littered  with  the  latest  maga- 
zines, a  well-stocked  desk  and  three  or  four 
luxurious-looking  chairs  drawn  up  before  the 
open  fire,  completed  the  furnishing  of  the  room 
and  made  it  look  what  it  was,  the  favorite  re- 
treat of  a  man  who  loved  what  was  best  in  art 
and  literature,  and  had  the  means  to  indulge  his 
tastes  to  the  utmost. 

"  What  a  charming  room  ! "  Margaret  had  said 
half  involuntarily,  as  Mr.  Atheilon  drew  aside 
the  portidre  and  stood  waiting  for  her  to  pass 
in  before  him. 

"  I'm  glad  you  like  it,"  he  answered,  with  a 
smile ;  "  for  this  is  to  be  your  future  sanctum, 
and  every  morning  it  will  be  given  up  to  you  and 
the  children.  Sit  down  here  by  the  fire,  and 
we'll  arrange  a  little  about  their  work.  Then, 
after  they  are  started,  I  shall  leave  them  to  your 
care.  You  certainly  have  a  gift  for  managing 
them ;  but,  tell  me,  how  do  you  like  them  ? " 
And  he  turned  to  look  at  his  companion  with  a 
little  feeling  of  pleasure,  as  his  eyes  rested  on 
her  animated  face  and  slight,  graceful  figure. 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  what  I  really  think  ?  "  And 
Margaret  met  his  gaze  frankly. 


80  MAKGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOK. 

"Do,  please,  and  then  we  can  tell  better  how 
we  are  going  to  start." 

"I  like  them  all,"  said  Margaret  slowly,  as 
the  color  came  into  her  cheeks ;  "  but  I  like  the 
boys  better  than  I  do  Bobbie.  She  is  an  attrac- 
tive little  thing;  but  she  is  less  frank  and  gen- 
erous than  they  are,  and  I  don't  think  she  is 
always  quite  considerate  enough  of  Danforth. 
Jack  is  a  dear  boy.  He  has  plenty  of  faults  ; 
but  they  are  all  manly  and  honorable  ones,  and 
he  will  outgrow  them  with  time  and  the  proper 
training.  I  don't  know  Danforth,  and  I  doubt 
my  ever  really  doing  so;  but  he  is  very  inter- 
esting, and  I  believe  that,  down  under  all  his  shy- 
ness, he's  the  flower  of  the  family,  but  whether 
you  or  I  will  ever  live  to  see  it  proved  to  the 
world  at  large,  is  an  open  question.  There," 
she  added,  laughing ;  "  have  I  passed  a  satisfac- 
tory examination  on  my  three  days'  study  ?  " 

"  Good !  You  have  said  just  what  I've  been 
thinking  for  the  past  three  years;  and  now, 
the  next  thing  is  to  plan  how,  between  the  two 
of  us,  we  can  make  the  most  of  the  children. 
Their  training  will  largely  depend  on  us,  for 
neither  my  father  nor  mother  are  strong  enough 
to  have  the  care.  I'm  too  busy  to  have  more 


MARGARET  AND  HER  PUPILS.  81 

than  a  general  oversight  of  them,  and  they've 
been  running  wild  of  late.  And  now  about 
your  work." 

For  more  than  an  hour  they  sat  there  together, 
talking  over  different  plans  for  the  winter's  work. 
Then,  as  they  rose  to  go  back  to  the  drawing- 
room,  Mr.  Atherton  said  suddenly,  — 

"  By  the  way,  Miss  Davis,  Danf  orth  tells  me 
that  you  own  a  fine  dog ;  —  a  collie,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes."  And  Margaret's  face  brightened  at 
the  thought  of  her  pet.  "  Laddie  is  a  beauty,  and 
he  has  a  pedigree  reaching  back  into  Scotland, 
for  generations  and  generations.  Dan  is  so  fond 
of  pets  that  I  was  telling  him  about  the  dog 
yesterday." 

"  If  he's  your  own  dog,  why  not  have  him  sent 
up  here  to  stay  with  you  ?  "  suggested  Mr.  Ather- 
ton, smiling  at  the  enthusiasm  of  her  tone.  "I'm 
not  quite  unselfish  in  proposing  it,  for  I've  been 
meaning  to  get  a  dog  for  the  boys,  as  soon  as  I 
could  find  one  that  I  liked.  Dan  came  to  me,  last 
night,  witli  a  long  face,  and  told  me  a  pitiful  tale 
of  how  you  had  been  forced  to  leave  your  pet,  and 
liow  you  were  probably  mourning  for  each  other. 
I  strongly  suspect  that  he  spoke  one  word  for  you, 
and  two  apiece  for  himself  and  Jack ;  but  I  told 


82  MAKGAKET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

him  I  would  ask  you  what  you  thought  of  sending 
down  for  the  dog." 

"Really?"  And  Margaret  gave  a  little  gasp 
of  gratitude.  "I  wanted  to  bring  him  up  here 
and  have  him  board  somewhere  near,  so  I  could 
see  him;  but  my  sisters  made  fun  of  me,  and  I 
was  afraid  you  would  find  it  out  and  think  I  was 
silly.  But  he  isn't  always  a  good  dog,"  she  added 
conscientiously.  "  Sometimes  he  barks,  and  once 
in  a  while  he  eats  up  stray  shoes  and  gloves.  He's 
only  two  years  old,  and  hasn't  much  dignity 
yet." 

"No  matter."  And  Gerald  laughed.  "Send 
for  him  to-morrow.  His  pranks  will  amuse  the 
children,  and  mother  is  like  Dan  in  her  love  for 
all  pets,  so  unless  he  is  very  sinful,  we  shan't 
mind  him  in  the  least."  And  he  led  the  way  back 
to  the  drawing-room,  quite  unconscious  of  the 
happiness  of  which  he  had  just  been  the  cause. 

By  the  end  of  the  next  week,  Margaret  had  set- 
tled into  a  well-established  routine  which  made 
her  feel  quite  like  a  daughter  of  the  house,  so 
warmly  had  she  been  welcomed  by  them  all.  For 
the  first  few  nights,  she  had  gone  to  bed  with  a 
conviction  that  this  could  not  last  and  that,  as  soon 
as  the  strangeness  had  worn  off,  she  would  be 


MARGARET  AND   HER   PUPILS.  83 

gently  reminded  that  her  position  was  that  of  tutor, 
not  of  guest ;  but  day  after  day  passed  by,  and  she 
was  still  occupying  her  same  place  in  the  family 
circle,  a  place  of  many  privileges  and  pleasant 
duties. 

Her  daily  routine  was  unvarying,  for  the  most 
part.  After  breakfast,  as  an  especial  mark  of 
favor,  she  was  allowed  to  retire  to  the  great  china- 
closet  with  Grandma  Atherton,  and  help  her  by 
wiping  the  old  blue  dishes  which  no  profane  hands 
were  ever  permitted  to  wash.  It  was  a  half-hour 
of  keen  enjoyment  to  Margaret,  for  she  already 
loved  the  sweet,  motherly  woman,  and  their  quiet 
talks  over  the  steaming  dish-water  often  gave  her 
a  help  and  inspiration  which  lasted  far  on  into  the 
day.  Promptly  at  nine  o'clock,  Margaret  gathered 
her  little  flock  into  the  library,  and  then,  for  four 
long  hours,  hard  work  was  the  order  of  the  day. 
As  a  general  rule,  the  children  did  work  with  a 
will,  though  Bobbie  was  occasionally  a  little  in- 
clined to  be  idle,  or  Jack  demoralized  them  all  with 
his  pranks;  but  Margaret  contrived  to  keep  them 
busy,  and  to  force  into  their  minds  their  daily 
allowance  of  Greek  and  Latin,  English  or  Mathe- 
matics, without  their  knowing  just  how  or  when 
they  learned  it  all.  After  their  mid-day  lunch, 


84  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

she  was  free  to  pass  the  time  as  she  chose,  except- 
ing the  hour  before  dinner  when  she  read  aloud 
with  the  children,  usually  some  history  or  travels. 
This  last  was  so  successful  that,  before  the  first 
week  was  over,  they  had  agreed  to  go  back  to  the 
library  for  an  hour  after  the  meal,  and  read  the 
best  fiction  of  the  day. 

All  in  all,  it  was  a  pleasant,  easy  life  for  Marga- 
ret, who  fully  realized  that  she  had  been  fortunate 
in  coming  into  this  charming  home.  It  was  hard 
for  her  to  decide  whether  she  more  enjoyed  her 
leisure  hours  spent  out  of  doors,  or  sewing  by  the 
fire,  while  she  chatted  with  Grandma  Atherton, 
or  her  work  with  the  children,  who  were  always 
ready  to  linger  over  their  lessons  as  long  as  she 
would  keep  them  with  her.  It  was  no  uncommon 
thing  for  them  to  claim  her  afternoons  for  a  long 
walk  or  drive  over  the  mountain  roads ;  or,  on 
stormy  days,  to  tempt  her  up-stairs  into  the  great 
room  where  they  held  sway,  kept  their  treasures 
and  received  their  intimate  friends.  Here  Marga- 
ret made  the  acquaintance  of  Bobbie's  other  self, 
Penelope  Stoddard,  a  pretty,  yellow-haired  young 
girl  whose  quiet  face  and  gentle  manner  were  the 
imperfect  mask  of  an  impishness  equal  to  Bobbie's 
own ;  and  of  Ellsworth  Pierson,  a  slight,  dark  little 


MARGARET   AND   HER   PUPILS.  85 

fellow  of  thirteen,  who  frequently  came  to  the 
house,  nominally  to  see  the  boys,  although  he 
made  no  secret  of  his  devotion  to  Bobbie,  who 
alternately  snubbed  him  and  tyrannized  over  him, 
with  a  perfect  unconsciousness  of  the  real  state  of 
his  feelings. 

Of  Gerald,  Margaret  saw  but  little,  except  at 
meal-times  and  late  in  the  evenings,  for  he  was 
much  in  demand  in  a  social  way,  and  after  a 
long  day  at  his  office,  he  was  frequently  out 
in  the  evening.  But  when  they  met  she  always 
found  him  the  same  cordial,  kindly  host  who  had 
welcomed  her  on  her  arrival;  and  she  quickly 
learned  to  look  forward  to  his  coming,  for  he 
never  failed  to  bring  with  him  a  new  spirit  of 
genial  optimism.  There  are  some  people  who 
never  enter  a  room,  without  being  met  with  a 
smile  from  every  person  in  it. 

No  atmosphere,  however,  is  altogether  cloudless, 
and  Grandpa  Atherton  was  the  one  dark  spot 
upon  Margaret's  horizon.  In  an  unguarded 
moment,  she  had  confessed  to  a  liking  for  chess, 
and,  after  that,  Grandpa  Atherton  considered  her 
his  lawful  prey.  Whenever  he  became  weary  of 
the  interminable  games  of  solitaire,  with  which 
he  beguiled  his  leisure  hours,  he  pounced  upon 


86  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

Margaret  and  demanded  a  fight  at  chess.  Worst 
of  all,  he  was  really  a  fine  player,  and  in  Margaret 
he  believed  that  he  saw  unusual  promise,  so  he 
promptly  devoted  himself  to  her  development. 

There  is  no  doubt  but  that  Margaret's  character 
and  patience  were  increased  by  his  training,  for 
Grandpa  Atherton  was  as  hot-tempered  as  his 
grandson  and  namesake,  and  now  lectured 
Margaret  upon  her  mismanagement  of  her  pawns, 
now  scolded  her  for  risking  her  queen  in  dangerous 
positions,  and  on  one  occasion,  when  she  had  put 
into  practice  his  precepts  and  had  succeeded  in 
checkmating  him,  he  jerked  the  board,  men  and 
all,  to  the  floor,  and  stalked  out  of  the  room  with 
the  very  tails  of  his  dressing-gown  quivering  with 
ill-suppressed  indignation.  After  that,  she  dared 
beat  him  no  more,  but  spent  long,  tedious  hours 
bending  over  the  board,  planning  how  to  keep  up 
a  brave  fight  to  the  last,  then  suddenly  fall  a 
victim  to  some  one  of  his  favorite  plays. 

On  the  second  Saturday  afternoon  in  her  new 
home,  Margaret  was  up  in  the  Wilderness,  as 
Gerald  called  the  children's  room,  helping  Jack 
to  cover  over  his  favorite  ball  with  the  long 
wrists  of  a  discarded  pair  of  her  gloves,  when 
Bobbie  suddenly  appeared  upon  the  scene.  Jack 


MARGARET   AND   HER   PUPILS.  87 

glanced  up  and  gave  a  low  whistle,  before  re- 
marking, — 

"  Hullo,  Bobbie ;  why  this  elegance  ?  " 

"What  elegance?"  she  asked  unconsciously, 
though  with  a  sidelong  glance  down  at  her  best 
gown,  the  Eton  jacket  of  which  she  regarded  as 
being  particularly  successful.  "I  only  changed 
my  gown  because  Grandma  just  told  me  that  Mr. 
Huntington  is  here,  and  she's  going  to  keep  him 
to  dinner.  She  likes  to  have  us  neat,  you  know." 

"And  so  you  put  on  your  store  clothes,"  said 
Jack,  finishing  her  sentence  for  her.  "  Turn 
around  very  slowly,  Bobbie,  so  we  can  see  them 
all,  and  then  you'd  better  run  away  again.  Miss 
Davis  and  I  are  busy." 

"It's  time  you  stopped,  though,"  responded 
Bobbie,  sitting  down  on  her  brother's  knee  and 
running  her  fingers  through  his  wavy  dark  hair. 
"  It's  almost  five,  and  time  to  read.  Besides,  I 
want  to  stay  here  ;  I'm  lonesome.  They're  talking 
about  all  sorts  of  stupid  things,  down-stairs,  and 
Pen  wouldn't  stay  any  longer,  so  she's  gone  off 
home.  I  like  you  best,  anyway.  Can't  I  help 
you  ?  "  she  concluded  artfully. 

"Not  a  bit,"  said  Jack  promptly,  for  Bobbie 
had  interrupted  Margaret's  account  of  the  last 


88  MARGARET    DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

Yale-Harvard  race,  and  he  was  anxious  to  get  his 
sister  out  of  the  way,  so  that  he  could  hear  the 
rest  of  the  story.  "Where's  Dan?  you'd  better 
go  and  hunt  him  up." 

Bobbie's  lips  took  on  a  little  disdainful  curve, 
and  she  let  one  arm  rest  caressingly  on  Jack's 
shoulder,  as  she  answered  contemptuously,  — 

"  Oh,  he's  down  in  the  library,  and  doesn't  know 
anything  but  his  stupid  old  book.  I  tried  to  stir 
him  up;  but  he  was  cross,  and  sent  me  off.  Say, 
Jacky,  can't  I  stay  here  ?  I  can  cover  your  ball  as 
well  as  Miss  Davis  can." 

"  Suppose  you  try  it,"  suggested  Margaret,  not 
at  all  to  Jack's  satisfaction.  "  It  is  almost  time 
to  have  our  history,  and  I've  something  to  do 
first.  Come  down  to  the  library  in  about  half 
an  hour." 

"All  right."  And  Bobbie  slipped  into  the 
chair  from  which  Margaret  had  just  risen.  "  Are 
you  going  to  change  your  gown,  Miss  Davis  ?  If 
you  do,  please  put  on  the  pretty  red  one  you  wore 
the  other  night." 

Margaret  laughed,  as  she  made  her  escape  into 
her  own  room.  Then,  after  pausing  a  moment  to 
see  that  her  hair  was  in  order,  she  softly  opened 
the  door,  and  went  down-stairs  and  into  the 


MARGARET   AND   HER    PUPILS.  89 

library.  From  Bobbie's  sudden  affection  for 
Jack,  Margaret  suspected  that  she  had  been  hav- 
ing a  disagreement  with  her  other  brother ;  and, 
from  her  week's  observations,  she  was  perfectly 
well  aware  that  such  disagreements  were  usually 
all  on  one  side,  so  she  had  resolved  to  go  down 
and  see  for  herself  wherein  Danforth's  crossness 
lay.  Pushing  aside  the  portiere,  she  entered  the 
room  so  quietly  that  the  boy  was  quite  uncon- 
scious of  her  approach ;  and  she  stood  resting  her 
hand  on  the  back  of  his  chair,  studying  his  face 
for  a  moment,  before  he  discovered  her  presence. 

The  contest,  whatever  had  been  its  nature,  had 
evidently  proved  disastrous  to  Danforth,  for  he  had 
dropped  his  book  to  the  floor  and  clasped  his 
hands  behind  his  head,  as  he  sat  scowling  moodily 
into  the  fire.  His  cheeks  were  flushed,  and  his 
small  white  teeth  were  shut  over  his  lower  lip; 
while  one  lock  of  his  yellow  hair  stood  aggres- 
sively erect.  Obeying  some  sudden  impulse, 
Margaret  gently  smoothed  it  down  into  its  ac- 
customed place.  At  the  first  touch,  Danforth 
shook  himself  impatiently. 

"  Do  go  away,  Bobbie,"  he  said,  without  look- 
ing up.  "I've  stood  about  all  I'm  going  to, 
to-day." 


90  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

"  But  I'm  not  Bobbie,"  said  Margaret's  voice 
in  his  ear. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Davis !  "  And  Danforth  started  up 
hastily.  "  I  honestly  didn't  know  'twas  you  ;  I 
thought  it  was  Bobbie,  and  —  and  —  " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Margaret,  drawing  a  chair 
up  beside  his  and  seating  herself.  "I  knew  you 
were  all  alone  here,  so  I  thought  I'd  come  down 
and  have  a  little  visit  with  you,  before  Jack  and 
Bobbie  should  come.  Sit  down  again  and  let's  en- 
joy the  fire  for  a  while  before  we  have  to  have  a 
light.  Bobbie  says  that  a  Mr.  Huntington  is 
going  to  be  here  to  dinner,"  she  added.  "  Who 
is  he?" 

"Really?  How  jolly!"  And  Danforth's  face 
grew  suddenly  bright  and  interested.  "He's 
the  new  minister  that  came  here  last  fall,  a 
first-rate  sort  of  a  fellow.  Bobbie  doesn't  take 
to  him,  because  she  says  he  wears  his  clothes  too 
long,  till  they  get  shabby ;  but  Jack  and  I  think 
he's  about  the  right  sort,  not  one  of  your  long- 
faced  kind,  but  likes  boys  and  knows  what  they 
like." 

"  For  instance  ?  "  asked  Margaret,  smiling  at  the 
boy's  eagerness. 

"  All  sorts  of  ways.      He   knows  us   all    and, 


MA  KG  A  RET   AND   HEE   PUPILS.  91 

last  winter,  he  had  a  club  of  us ;  but  he  had  to 
drop  that,  because  he  had  so  much  else." 

"  A  boys'  club  ;  that  is  in  my  line.  You  know 
I  used  to  have  one  at  home,  such  dear  boys,  too ! 
Tell  me  about  yours." 

And  Danforth  told,  forgetting  himself  and  even 
Bobbie's  teasing,  as  he  gave  Margaret  a  glowing 
description  of  the  good  times  they  had  had  in 
their  meetings.  She  watched  him  closely,  fasci- 
nated by  his  ease  of  expression  and  by  his  ani- 
mated, changing  face.  Why  could  he  not  always 
be  as  unreserved  with  her,  she  asked  herself ;  and 
she  determined  upon  a  bold  stroke.  As  he  paused, 
she  leaned  over  and  rested  her  hand  upon  his, 
which  lay  on  the  arm  of  his  chair. 

"  Dan,"  she  asked  abruptly ;  "  I  like  boys  just 
as  well  as  Mr.  Huntington  does,  and  I  know  a 
good  deal  about  them,  too.  Why  can't  we  be  as 
good  friends  as  you  and  he  are  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know."  And  Danforth  retreated  into 
his  shell  as  promptly  as  an  offended  box-turtle. 

"That's  not  a  fair  answer,"  she  responded, 
laughing.  "  I'm  really  in  earnest,  Dan.  I've  been 
here  more  than  a  week  now,  and  I'm  getting  on 
beautifully  with  Jack  and  Bobbie ;  but  I  don't 
know  you  any  better  than  I  did  the  very  first 


92  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

night.  I  don't  think  it  is  all  my  fault ;  but  we 
don't  seem  to  be  getting  at  each  other  at  all." 

Danforth  was  staring  into  the  fire  again,  and 
Margaret  began  to  fear  that  she  had  made  a  mis- 
take in  trying  to  take  him  by  storm ;  but  it  was 
too  late  to  draw  back. 

"  Truly,  Dan,"  she  urged ;  "  Jack  informed  me 
to-day  that  I  wasn't  half  bad,  and  you  really  ought 
to  give  me  the  benefit  of  the  doubt.  I  want  to  be 
friends  with  both  my  boys,  for  then  we  could  have 
so  much  better  times  together.  I  don't  ask  you 
to  like  me,  only  to  trust  me  and  to  believe  that  I 
really  care  for  you,  instead  of  being  here  just  to 
teach  you  your  lessons." 

Danforth  turned  a  little  in  his  chair,  and  looked 
up  at  her  with  a  mute  appeal  in  his  great  blue 
eyes.  No  woman's  voice  had  taken  just  that  tone 
in  speaking  to  him,  since  his  mother  left  him ; 
and,  except  for  Grandma  Atherton  and  Uncle 
Jerry,  no  one  had  cared  to  try  to  win  his  liking. 
At  heart  the  boy  was  very  lonely,  and  hungry 
for  a  word  of  sympathy  and  understanding  from 
some  one.  Even  Jack  failed  at  times,  for  his  ani- 
mal spirits  and  love  of  fun  made  him  slow  to 
appreciate  all  the  moods  of  his  more  sensitive 
brother.  Moreover,  Margaret's  face  was  very 


MARGARET   AND   HER   PUPILS.  93 

sweet  and  gentle  as  she  bent  towards  him,  with  a 
little,  half-shy  smile  trembling  on  her  lips. 

"What  I  want,  Dan,"  she  went  on  slowly,  "is 
that  you  shall  feel  as  if  I  were  a  cousin  or  some- 
thing, so  that  you  can  come  to  me  when  things  go 
wrong,  and  talk  it  over  together,  and  let  me  have 
a  share  in  your  interests,  when  things  go  right ; 
to  grow  to  be  friends  through  thick  and  thin.  It 
won't  come  all  at  once,  I  know ;  but  let's  try  for 
it,  because,"  she  hesitated ;  then  she  went  on,  in 
a  lower  tone,  "  because  I  could  be  very  fond  of 
you,  Dan,  if  you'd  only  let  me." 

The  clock  struck  five  and  Jack's  voice  was  heard 
in  the  hall  outside.  The  next  moment,  he  and 
Bobbie  came  into  the  room,  but  not  before  Mar- 
garet had  felt  the  boy's  fingers  close  upon  hers  in 
a  firm,  close  grasp. 

When  they  adjourned  to  the  drawing-room,  after 
their  hour's  reading,  Margaret  was  introduced  to 
the  minister  of  whom  Danforth  had  spoken  so 
warmly.  She  found  him  a  slight,  dark  young 
man,  with  a  pale  clear-cut  face  and  a  little  manner 
of  boyish  shyness  which  reminded  her  of  Danforth 
himself.  Accustomed  as  she  was  to  meeting 
strangers,  she  was  secretly  amused  by  this  young 
man's  downcast  eyes,  and  an  odd  little  fashion  he 


94  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

had  of  irresolutely  laying  the  tip  of  his  forefinger 
against  his  mustache,  as  if  to  steady  his  sensitive 
lips.  But  when  the  talk  went  back  from  society 
nothings  to  the  real  interests  of  life  once  more, 
she  was  surprised  to  see  the  man's  whole  manner 
change,  while  his  face  grew  animated  and  his 
great  dark  eyes  lighted  up,  without  any  trace  of 
his  former  embarrassment.  In  spite  of  the  shabby 
black  coat,  worn  white  at  the  seams,  which  had 
roused  Bobbie's  dislike,  in  spite  of  the  nervous 
forefinger,  Margaret  knew  and  liked  him  for  just 
what  he  was,  an  earnest,  kindly  young  worker, 
who  had  neither  the  time  nor  the  inclination  to 
become  a  mere  society  man,  so  absorbed  was  he  in 
the  real  needs  of  his  calling. 

As  they  took  their  places  at  the  table,  Grandma 
Atherton  said  to  Margaret  in  a  low  tone,  — 

"Just  for  to-night,  I  have  put  Danforth  be- 
tween you  and  Gerald,  to  make  room  for  Mr. 
Huntington." 

And  Margaret  answered,  with  a  smile  for  the 
boy  who  stood  waiting  at  her  side,  — 

"  Why  not  let  him  stay  here  all  the  time  ?  It  is 
the  best  place  for  him." 

It  was  growing  late,  that  evening,  when  the 
maid  came  to  the  door  and  spoke  to  Gerald.  He 


MARGARET   AND   HER   PUPILS.  95 

rose  from  his  place  in  the  midst  of  the  group  be- 
fore the  fire,  and  went  out  into  the  hall.  A 
moment  later,  he  opened  the  door  a  crack  and 
announced,  — 

"  A  young  gentleman  is  here,  who  would  like  to 
see  Miss  Davis." 

Then  he  threw  the  door  wide  open  ;  there  came 
a  rush  and  a  scramble,  and  Laddie,  dragging  his 
chain  after  him,  bounded  into  the  group.  Straight 
to  Margaret's  chair  he  raced,  leaped  up  and  put 
his  paws  on  her  shoulders,  where  he  stood,  barking 
madly  in  his  joy  at  once  more  finding  his  beloved 
mistress  who  had  so  faithlessly  deserted  him.  But 
when  at  length  he  was  quieted  and  brought  to 
order  once  more,  they  found  that,  in  his  wild 
gambols  about  the  room,  Laddie's  chain  had  tied 
Margaret  and  Danforth  together  in  a  firm,  close 
bond. 


CHAPTER  V. 
BOBBIE'S  EXPLORATIONS. 

"  COME,  Dan,"  urged  Bobbie ;  "  Uncle  Jerry 
said  I  mustn't  go  alone,  and  I  think  you  might 
come  with  me,  just  this  once." 

"But  I  don't  want  to,  Bob.  I  told  Jack  I'd 
find  out  how  to  rig  up  our  telephone.  There's 
something  wrong  about  it,  and  I  borrowed  this 
book,  just  for  this  afternoon,  so  I  could  find  out 
the  trouble.  I'll  go  with  you  to-morrow;  won't 
that  do?"  he  pleaded,  for  Bobbie  stood  over 
him,  with  her  lip  curled  in  scorn. 

"  You  are  getting  to  be  a  perfect  old  poke, 
Dan,"  she  said  impatiently.  "  You  never  were 
half  the  fun  Jack  is;  and,  this  fall,  you've  been 
worse  than  ever,  just  won't  do  anything  I  want 
you  to." 

"  But  don't  you  see  I  can't  ?  Why  won't  Jack 
go  with  you?" 

"  Because  he  won't.  He  has  taken  Lady  Jane 
and  gone  for  a  ride  with  Miss  Davis.  He's  with 

96 


BOBBIE'S  EXPLORATIONS.  97 

her  the  whole  time,  afternoons."  And  Bobbie 
pouted. 

Danforth  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  looked 
up  at  his  sister,  with  a  gleam  of  amusement  in 
his  dark  blue  eyes. 

"Do  you  know,  Bob,  I  believe  that  you're 
jealous  of  Miss  Davis,  and  that's  where  the  shoe 
pinches." 

"  Danforth  Spaulding,  what  an  idea !  I'm  not 
jealous  of  anybody  ;  only,"  she  went  on,  a  little 
illogically,  "it  seems  too  bad  that,  when  I  need 
my  brothers,  they  should  be  going  off  with  some- 
body that  isn't  their  sister  one  bit." 

"  It's  hard  luck,  Bobbie,"  said  Danforth  sympa- 
thetically, as  Bobbie  dropped  down  on  the  arm  of 
his  chair. 

"Then  why  won't  you  go?"  And  Bobbie 
smiled  her  sweetest,  as  she  rested  her  head  against 
her  brother's  shoulder. 

"  I  can't,  honestly,  Bobbie.  I  must  do  this 
now.  I  haven't  much  time  anyway,  for  it's  almost 
three.  If  you'll  wait  till  to-morrow,  I'll  go." 

"How  selfish  you  are,  Dan."  And  Bobbie 
straightened  up  suddenly.  "  I  should  think  you'd 
be  ashamed  of  yourself,  so  there !  You  and  Jack 
are  both  just  as  mean  as  mean  can  be."  She 


98  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

stood  facing  him  angrily  as  she  went  on.  "All 
you  care  for  is  to  sit  over  the  fire  and  read,  like 
an  old  grandfather.  But  if  you  won't  do  what  I 
want  you  to,  you  shan't  do  what  you  want." 
And  before  Dauforth  could  divine  her  intention, 
she  darted  forward,  pulled  off  his  glasses  with  one 
hand,  seized  his  book  with  the  other,  and  ran 
away  out  of  the  room. 

He  rushed  after  her;  but  she  was  too  quick  for 
him,  and  before  he  was  half-way  up  the  stairs,  he 
heard  the  key  turn  in  her  door.  Accordingly,  he 
was  forced  to  abandon  the  pursuit,  and,  after  a 
few  warning  words,  the  effect  of  which  was 
marred  by  their  being  delivered  through  the  key- 
hole to  a  silent  room  beyond,  he  went  back  to  the 
library  where,  since  reading  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion for  him,  he  meditated  upon  vengeance. 

"  What  a  little  wretch  she  is,  when  she  gets 
wild !  "  he  remarked  to  Laddie,  who  lay  before  the 
fire.  "I  wouldn't  mind,  if  she'd  left  my  glasses; 
but  now  our  telephone  must  wait  a  while  longer. 
I  believe  I'll  go  out  for  a  ride ;  there's  nothing 
else  to  do."  But  he  was  still  sitting  there,  half  an 
hour  later,  when  Margaret  came  into  the  room, 
dressed  for  a  walk. 

"Do  you  know  where  Bobbie  is? "she  asked, 


BOBBIE'S  EXPLORATIONS.  99 

coming  forward  to  the  fire,  as  she  slowly  drew  on 
her  gloves. 

"No;  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  do,"  answered  Dan- 
forth  with  unwonted  impatience. 

"  I  didn't  know  but  you  might  have  seen  her," 
said  Margaret,  a  little  surprised  at  his  tone.  "  I've 
looked  everywhere  for  her  since  I  came  back,  in 
her  room  and  in  the  Wilderness ;  but  I  can't  find 
her  at  all.  She  wanted  me  to  get  some  ribbon  for 
her,  when  I  went  over  to  Riverton." 

"  I  honestly  don't  know  where  she  is,  but  maybe 
I  can  find  her."  And  Danforth  rose  reluctantly, 
to  go  in  search  of  his  sister. 

"  Never  mind,  Dan ;  if  she  isn't  here,  she  can 
wait  till  another  time.  What  are  you  doing  in 
the  house,  this  lovely  day?  You  ought  to  be  out 
in  the  air,  not  drying  up  your  brains  in  this  warm 
room.  Come  over  to  Riverton  with  me,  if  you'Ve 
nothing  better  to  do.  I've  only  one  errand,  and 
then  I  shall  come  right  home  again." 

"  All  right." '  And  Danforth  stretched  himself 
and  buttoned  his  coat.  "  I  promised  Jack  and 
Ellie  that  I'd  get  our  telephone  straight,  this  after- 
noon; but  Bob  has  run  off  with  my  glasses,  so  I 
can't  finish  the  book,  and  I'd  like  to  go." 

"So   that's   it!     I   had    been   wondering   what 


100  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

made  you  look  so  odd  to  me,"  said  Margaret, 
with  a  smile.  "  But  what  is  Bobbie  doing  with 
your  property?" 

Danforth  gave  an  uneasy  laugh. 

"  Oh,  we  had  a  little  row,  and  she  went  for  me 
and  came  off  first  best,  that's  all." 

"  But  Bobbie  had  no  right  to  meddle  with  your 
glasses,  no  matter  what  you  did."  Margaret's 
tone  was  a  trifle  indignant.  "  I  wish  you'd  tell 
me  what  was  the  real  trouble,  Dan.  This  ought 
to  be  stopped." 

"  I  don't  want  to  tell  tales  of  Bobbie,  Miss 
Davis."  And  Danforth  met  her  look  squarely. 
"  'Twasn't  much,  anyway ;  and  I'm  glad  to  get  rid 
of  my  spectacles  for  a  while.  You  know  I  hate 
wearing  them.  Besides,  I  brought  it  on  myself; 
I  wouldn't  go  nutting  with  her,  and  she  thought 
I  "ought  to." 

"  I'm  sorry,  Dan.  We  shall  have  to  give  Bobbie 
a  talking-to.  But  now  let's  be  starting,  before  we 
lose  any  more  of  this  splendid  day."  And  pri- 
vately resolving  to  give  Miss  Bobbie  a  lecture 
upon  her  sins,  she  followed  Danforth  into  the  hall, 
and  stood  waiting  while  he  took  down  his  overcoat 
and  plunged  his  arm  into  the  sleeve. 

The  next  moment,  he  gave  a  short  exclamation 
of  disgust,  and  shook  it  off  again. 


BOBBIE'S  EXPLORATIONS.  101 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Margaret  curiously. 

"  Something  is  wrong  with  the  sleeves ;  I  believe 
Bobbie  has  been  monkeying  with  the  lining.  Yes, 
see  there ! "  And  he  pointed  to  a  row  of  hasty, 
uneven  stitches  which  drew  the  lining  together 
into  a  little  untidy  knob  of  satin.  "She  must  be 
in  no  end  of  a  temper,  for  she  hates  to  sew,  and 
she'd  never  have  taken  so  much  trouble." 

In  spite  of  herself,  Margaret  laughed  as  she  saw 
the  stitches.  Bobbie's  fun  and  originality  showed, 
even  in  her  naughtiness,  and  she  certainly  devised 
striking  methods  of  taking  revenge  upon  her 
brothers.  The  child  was  wily  enough  to  know 
that,  no  matter  what  she  did,  if  she  could  only  get 
the  laugh  on  her  side,  the  punishment  which  fol- 
lowed must  of  necessity  lose  much  of  its  severity  ; 
and  when  she  was  not  so  angry  as  to  lose  her  head, 
she  never  failed  to  add  the  saving  touch  of  comi- 
cality to  her  worst  sins. 

"Just  run  up  to  my  room  and  bring  me  my 
scissors,  Dan,"  Margaret  said,  after  a  moment's 
amused  contemplation  of  the  sleeves  which  she 
had  turned  inside  out.  "I'll  set  this  right  in  a 
minute."  And  she  was  as  good  as  her  word  for, 
five  minutes  later,  Danforth's  coat  was  on,  and 
they  were  leaving  the  house. 


102  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

It  was  about  two  weeks  after  Margaret's  little 
talk  with  Danforth,  and  ever  since  that  night,  she 
had  been  conscious  of  a  slight  difference  in  the 
boy's  attitude  toward  her,  as  if  he  were  beginning 
to  trust  her  friendship,  or  had  entered  into  some 
secret  alliance  with  her.  He  no  longer  watched 
her  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes ;  but  he  met  her 
advances  more  frankly,  although  a  quick,  uncon- 
sidered  word  would  send  him  back  into  his  old 
reserve  once  more,  until  Margaret  could  succeed 
in  drawing  him  out  again.  It  was  rather  exhaust- 
ing, she  said  to  herself  at  times,  and  she  was  occa- 
sionally half-inclined  to  give  up  the  effort. 

Then  her  conscientious  wish  to  make  the  most  of 
the  boy,  and  a  feminine  desire  to  please  led  her 
to  make  still  another  attempt;  and  she  would  be 
rewarded  with  some  shy  mark  of  liking,  a  quick 
look  of  understanding  which  gave  her  courage  to 
go  on.  Little  by  little  she  became  interested,  then 
fascinated  by  the  quiet,  undemonstrative  boy  who 
at  first  had  seemed  to  her  the  least  promising  of 
her  pupils  ;  and  although  Jack  and  Bobbie  monopo- 
lized most  of  her  time  and  attention,  she  found 
that  her  rare  half-hours »alone  with  Danforth  were 
among  the  pleasantest  memories  of  her  day.  Once 
or  twice  he  had  mustered  courage  to  ask  her  to 


BOBBIE'S  EXPLORATIONS.  103 

go  for  a  ride  with  him,  and  he  had  shown  himself 
quite  ready  to  accompany  her,  in  the  one  or  two 
little  expeditions  she  had  proposed. 

They  started  off  gayly  enough  to-day,  with 
Laddie  trudging  at  their  heels  ;  and  it  was  no  sur- 
prise to  Margaret  to  have  Danforth  suggest,  after 
their  errands  were  done,  that  they  should  prolong 
their  walk  down  the  valley,  and  across  the  bridge 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  town.  Accordingly  they 
strolled  along,  enjoying  the  pleasant  October  sun- 
shine and  talking  of  this  matter  and  that,  for  Dan- 
forth was  in  an  uncommonly  social  mood,  that  day, 
and  Margaret  wondered  to  herself  to  find  him  so 
interesting  and  companionable.  Always  sympa- 
thetic and  easy  in  her  manner  with  boys,  she  was 
often  conscious  that  she  utterly  failed  in  her 
efforts  to  interest  them;  but  with  Danforth  in 
his  present  mood,  there  was  no  such  effort.  He 
showed  himself  so  intelligent  and  bright  that 
she  forgot  the  difference  in  their  years,  and  met 
him  as  she  would  have  done  a  friend  of  her 
own  age. 

"  Let's  stop  here  and  take  breath,  before  we  go 
home,"  he  suggested  suddenly,  as  they  paused  on 
the  bridge  leading  across  a  rocky  gorge  where  a 
little  stream  tumbled  over  the  boulders  below. 


104  MARGARET    DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"  I  know  a  fine  place  on  the  bank  down  here,  and 
we've  plenty  of  time,  I'm  sure." 

He  led  the  way  along  the  bank  to  a  moss-grown 
ledge  which  overlooked  the  clear  depths  of  the 
stream,  and  pointed  to  a  sunny  nook  facing  the 
west.  Margaret  sat  down  there,  and  he  threw 
himself  on  the  rock  at  her  feet.  Before  them,  the 
gorge  opened  out  into  a  little  round  basin,  like  the 
bed  of  a  former  lake,  and  at  its  western  edge  lay 
the  scattered  buildings  of  a  solitary  farm,  while 
along  the  top  of  the  bluff  beyond  ran  one  of  the 
main  drives  of  the  city,  bordered  with  stately 
houses  and  well-kept  lawns.  It  was  Margaret's 
first  visit  to  the  spot,  and  she  gave  a  little  excla- 
mation of  delight,  as  she  saw  the  pretty  picture 
before  her.  When  at  last  she  looked  down  again 
at  the  boy  at  her  feet,  she  found  that  he  had  rolled 
over  on  his  back,  and  was  gazing  up  at  her  with 
a  curiously  intent  expression  in  his  blue  eyes. 

"  Well,  Dan,  what  is  it  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  Nothing,  only  I  was  thinking,"  he  began ; 
then  he  asked  abruptly,  "  Has  anybody  here  ever 
said  that  you  look  like  my  mother,  Miss  Davis  ?  " 

Margaret  shook  her  head. 

"No;  nobody  has  spoken  of  it.  Do  you  think 
I  do,  Dan?" 


BOBBIE'S  EXPLORATIONS.  105 

"I  don't  know  as  you  really  look  like  her;  but 
you've  made  me  think  of  her,  ever  since  that  first 
night  you  came,  and  I  wondered  if  anybody  else 
had  thought  of  it." 

"  What  was  she  like  ?  "  asked  Margaret  gently. 
"  I  think  I've  never  seen  a  picture  of  her." 

For  his  only  answer,  Danforth  took  out  his 
watch,  opened  the  back  of  its  case  and  held  it  up 
to  Margaret's  outstretched  hand.  She  took  it 
from  him  and  looked  long  at  the  picture  fastened 
inside  the  case,  a  picture  of  a  pretty,  delicate  young 
face,  in  all  the  freshness  of  early  womanhood. 

"  You  are  like  her,  Dan,"  she  said,  after  a  mo- 
ment ;  "  very  much  like  her.  I  had  always  sup- 
posed that  you  were  the  odd  one;  but  now  I 
understand  it.  Was  this  taken  long  before  — ?  " 

"  No  ;  only  a  month  before  we  started.  She 
wanted  to  leave  it  with  papa.  There  were  only 
a  few  of  them,  and  I  had  this  one.  I  always  keep 
it  in  here;  but  nobody  else  knows  about  it,  so 
maybe  you'd  better  not  say  anything.  I  wanted 
to  show  it  to  you  though," somehow." 

"  Thank  you,  Dan,"  she  answered  quickly.  "I 
only  wish  I  might  remind  you  of  her,  a  little  ;  not 
to  take  her  place,  but  to  help  to  fill  it,  if  you'd  let 
me." 


106  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

Danforth  straightened  up,  and  sat  with  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  valley  at  his  feet. 

"  I  don't  say  much  about  it,  it's  no  use ;  but  it 
seems  as  if  the  others  didn't  need  her,  quite  so 
much  as  I  did.  Bobbie  was  too  little  to  mind 
much,  and  Jack  used  to  be  off  with  papa  a  good 
deal ;  but  I  was  with  her  more,  and  it's  been  so 
lonesome  since  we  came  here." 

"  Poor,  mother-sick  boy  !  "  thought  Margaret ; 
but  she  said  nothing.  She  only  bent  forward  and 
drew  the  lad's  head  over  against  her,  with  an 
indescribably  gentle,  womanly  motion. 

"  I  was  alone  with  her,  you  know,"  he  went  on, 
after  a  little  pause.  "  Bobbie  was  afraid  and 
cried,  and  Jack  took  her  away ;  but  I  stayed 
there,  and  she  held  on  to  my  hand  all  the 
time.  Seems  as  if  I  could  feel  it  now.  Then 
we  came  here,  and  grandma  and  Uncle  Jerry 
are  just  as  good  as  they  can  be;  but  nobody's 
hand  ever  felt  just  the  same  to  me,  till  you  came 
into  the  library,  that  night.  It  hasn't  been  nearly 
so  lonesome,  since  then." 

Margaret  stooped  and  passed  her  hand  caress- 
ingly across  the  boy's  low,  broad  forehead  and 
freckled  cheek. 

"  You  make  me  very  glad  I  came  here,  Dan," 


BOBBIE'S  EXPLORATIONS.  107 

she  said.  "  I  feel  as  if  perhaps  I'd  found  my 
proper  place." 

In  the  meantime,  Jack  was  searching  the  house 
for  his  sister,  whom  he  wished  to  have  go  out  with 
him  for  a  continuation  of  the  ride  which  had  been 
cut  short  by  Margaret's  errands.  But  Bobbie  was 
nowhere  to  be  found,  and  Jack  was  forced  to  give 
up  the  quest  and  take  the  ponies  away  to  the  barn 
to  unsaddle  them.  Danforth  too  had  mysteriously 
disappeared ;  so  Jack,  finding  the  bright,  bracing 
October  air  too  fine  for  inaction,  resolved  to  go 
over  to  Riverton  for  a  call  on  Ellsworth  Pierson, 
whom  he  had  seen  but  twice  before,  that  day. 
Accordingly,  he  sauntered  away  dpwn  the  hill, 
and  on  towards  the  bridge  leading  across  the  river. 
He  had  no  especial  desire  to  see  Ellsworth ;  it  was 
only  because  he  seemed,  for  the  moment,  the  one 
available  source  of  entertainment,  and  because,  to 
Jack's  restless  activity,  there  was  need  for  constant 
occupation. 

On  the  bridge  he  paused  for  a  moment,  and 
stood  with  his  elbows  on  the  rails,  gazing  down  at 
the  seething  water  below  him  where  the  river, 
dashing  over  the  dam  just  above  the  bridge  and 
splashing  down  on  the  rocks  beneath,  was  churned 
into  a  mass  of  white  foam.  Behind  him,  above 


108  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

the  dam,  the  water  lay  smooth  and  quiet ;  before 
him,  it  went  tearing  through  the  narrow  gorge 
where  whirlpool  and  rapid  followed  one  another 
in  quick  succession,  until  it  swept  around  an 
abrupt  turn,  half  a  mile  below,  raced  under  the 
two  bridges,  tumbled  over  a  second  dam  and  then 
went  sliding  away  through  the  fertile  meadows,  on 
and  on  until  it  reached  the  sea. 

The  river  always  had  a  peculiar  fascination  for 
Jack,  and  he  invariably  chose  the  narrow  footpath 
along  the  edge  of  the  upper  railroad  bridge  by 
the  dam,  instead  of  the  safer  and  longer  route  of 
the  covered  bridge  below.  Here  he  loved  to  lin- 
ger, watching  the  spray  dancing  up  and  down  in 
the  sun,  or  counting  the  eddies  circling  about  the 
rocks  in  mid-stream.  To-day  he  waited  there 
while  a  long  freight  train  went  slowly  by  him  ; 
then,  when  the  bridge  had  ceased  to  throb  with 
the  moving  weight,  he  started  to  go  on  again, 
when  his  eyes  suddenly  fell  upon  two  little  fig- 
ures passing  around  the  point  of  rocks,  far  down 
the  stream.  Jack  stared  at  them  for  a  moment ; 
then  he  gave  a  long,  low  whistle. 

"  Scott ! "  he  remarked  comprehensively.  "  Those 
girls  must  have  level  heads.  Any  slip  there 
would  be  sure  death  for  them,  with  such  a  slant 


BOBBIE'S  EXPLOIIATIONS.  109 

on  the  rocks  and  that  rapid  below.  That's  Bob- 
bie's doing;  Pen  never  would  have  had  pluck 
enough  to  go  down  there  alone.  Wonder  what 
Uncle  Jerry  would  say.  I  believe  I'll  go  down 
and  look  after  them;  I  don't  suppose  they're  in 
any  danger,  but  it  makes  me  squirm  a  little." 
And  he  hurried  back  to  the  river  bank  once  more, 
and  started  down  the  gorge. 

Bobbie  was  the  first  to  see  him  coming. 

"  Pen  !  Pen !  "  she  called,  raising  her  voice  to 
be  heard  above  the  roar  of  the  stream.  "  Here 
comes  Jack." 

"  Good !  "  And  Penelope  turned  a  welcoming 
glance  up  the  valley  to  the  spot  where  Jack  could 
be  seen,  cautiously  picking  his  way  along  over  the 
pile  of  boulders  in  his  path. 

"But  'tisn't  good,  a  bit,"  protested  Bobbie. 
"  He'll  make  us  go  back  home,  and  I  wanted  to 
get  down  as  far  as  the  lower  bridge.  We're  more 
than  half-way  there  now,  and  it's  too  bad  to  have 
to  give  up,  after  all  this." 

Penelope  had  dropped  down  on  a  tempting 
point  of  rock. 

"  I  don't  care  so  very  much,"  she  confessed  a 
little  wearily.  "  We've  gone  about  far  enough 
for  one  day,  and  I'd  just  as  soon  rest  a  little, 
before  we  try  the  rest." 


110  MAEGAEET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

"I  wouldn't,"  returned  Bobbie  undauntedly. 
"  Nobody  else  ever  did  it,  I  'most  know,  and  I 
want  to  be  able  to  tell  of  it.  If  we  go  home, 
somebody  will  be  sure  to  find  it  out  and  say  we 
mustn't  do  it  again.  Besides,  I'd  rather  not  see 
Jack  just  now." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Penelope  curiously,  as  she 
took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  tie  up  the 
ribbon,  fast  slipping  from  the  end  of  her  long  yel- 
low pigtail. 

"  Because  I  don't.  You  see  I  cut  his  old  tele- 
phone wire,  just  before  I  left  the  house  ;  and  he's 
probably  after  me  now." 

«  Why,  Roberta  Spaulding !  How  did  you  ever 
dare  do  such  a  thing?"  And  Penelope  looked  up 
in  surprise,  for  not  even  three  years'  intimacy 
with  Bobbie  had  accustomed  her  friend  to  her 
sudden  tempestuous  outbursts. 

"  I  wanted  to,"  explained  Bobbie,  with  impeni- 
tent dignity.  "  The  boys  cared  a  good  deal  more 
about  it  than  they  did  about  me,  and  I  thought 
'twas  time  it  was  stopped.  But  let's  get  out  of 
the  way  before  Jack  gets  here.  It  will  take  him 
ever  so  long,  and  I'd  rather  not  see  him  here. 
He'll  be  cross,  and  it  will  be  better  for  you  not  to 
hear  what  he  says,"  she  added  crushingly. 


BOBBIE'S  EXPLOITATIONS.  Ill 

"  Where  shall  we  go  ? "  inquired  Penelope 
meekly,  for  she  never  failed  to  be  awed  when 
Bobbie  assumed  that  tone. 

"  Come  round  the  point  back  here,  and  we'll 
hide  somewhere,"  suggested  Bobbie.  "  If  he  can't 
find  us,  he'll  give  up  and  go  home,  and  then  we 
can  go  on  down  to  the  bridge."  And  suiting  the 
action  to  the  word,  she  led  the  way  back  up  the 
bank  and  took  refuge  behind  a  jutting  point  of 
rocks,  where  she  stood  looking  about,  in  search  of 
a  suitable  hiding-place.  "  I'll  tell  you,"  she  said 
suddenly:  "you  know  we  saw  those  two  great 
pot-holes  way  up  there,  when  we  went  down. 
Let's  climb  up  and  get  into  them.  They're  'most 
dry  and  plenty  large  enough  to  hold  us,  and  Jack 
would  never  find  us." 

Climbing  with  the  light,  sure  step  of  a  young 
chamois,  she  quickly  made  her  way  up  the  slippery 
cliff  to  the  spot,  only  reached  by  the  spring  floods, 
where  the  rushing  waters  had  worn  two  round, 
deep  holes  in  the  living  rock.  In  a  gorge  noted 
far  and  wide  for  the  number  and  size  of  its  pot- 
holes, these  two  had  been  the  wonder  and  admi- 
ration of  generations  of  geologists,  who  had 
marvelled  that  the  little  round  stones  inside  could 
have  ground  away  the  rock  to  a  depth  of  four  feet 


112  MAKGAKET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

and  more.  No  better  hiding-place  could  have 
been  found,  and  it  was  but  the  work  of  a  moment 
for  the  two  lithe,  active  girls  to  let  themselves 
down  into  the  cool,  brown  hollows.  There  was 
plenty  of  room  for  them  to  stand  on  the  stones 
which  rose  out  of  the  stagnant,  shallow  pools  in 
the  bottom ;  and  by  crouching  down  a  little,  they 
were  completely  hidden  from  the  sight  of  any  one 
walking  along  the  rocks  below.  They  stood  with 
their  heads  rising  above  the  edges  of  their  stony 
nests,  like  a  pair  of  pretty  Jacks-in-the-box,  talk- 
ing softly  to  each  other,  until  they  heard  Jack 
scrambling  over  the  rocks  just  around  the  point ; 
then  they  cuddled  down  and  waited. 

They  could  hear  the  boy's  steps  coming  nearer 
and  nearer,  till  he  paused  on  the  rock  below  them, 
so  near  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  must  detect  the 
quick  beating  of  their  hearts.  They  could  fancy 
just  how  he  looked,  standing  there  with  his  cap  on 
the  extreme  back  of  his  head  and  his  hands  in  his 
coat  pockets,  as  he  turned  to  gaze  this  way  and 
that,  wondering  where  they  could  have  vanished. 
In  the  silence,  Penelope  could  hear  a  little  giggle 
from  Bobbie's  hole.  Jack,  nearer  the  rushing 
water,  heard  nothing.  Then  he  went  on  again; 
but  presently  he  retraced  his  steps,  and  once  more 


BOBBIE'S   EXPLORATIONS.  113 

took  his  stand  below  them  and  called  their  names, 
once,  twice,  three  times.  Even  thoughtless  Bob- 
bie could  hear  the  little  note  of  alarm  in  his  clear 
young  voice  ;  but  she  remained  obdurately  silent. 
Again  he  called  them;  then,  turning  slowly,  he 
went  back  around  the  point  and  up  the  bank. 
Bobbie  waited  until  she  lost  the  last  echo  of  his 
footsteps ;  then  she  cautiously  raised  her  head  to 
the  surface  again. 

"  It's  all  right,  Pen,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 
"  Didn't  I  tell  you  he'd  never  find  us  ?  Come  on, 
now ;  we'll  get  out,  and  go  on  down  to  the 
bridge." 

Penelope  stood  up,  and  clutched  the  edge  of  the 
rock  with  both  hands,  as  she  said,  — 

"  I  shan't  be  sorry  to  get  out,  either,  for  my  hole 
was  a  tight  fit  and  my  foot  went  fast  asleep.  I 
thought  he'd  never  go." 

"  He  was  a  little  bit  scared,"  said  Bobbie,  laugh- 
ing. "  He  didn't  know  where  we  were,  unless 
we'd  ridden  off  on  a  pair  of  broomsticks."  And 
she  too  grasped  the  rock,  preparatory  to  climbing 
out  to  the  surface  once  more. 

For  the  next  five  minutes,  the  silence  was  only 
broken  by  the  sounds  of  scraping  and  sliding,  and 
by  little  gasps  of  exhaustion.  Then  Bobbie's  voice 


114  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

was  heard  again,  but  it  was  in  a  minor  key  and  very 
plaintive. 

"  But  I  can't  get  out,  Pen." 

"  Neither  can  I."  And  Penelope's  tone  was  even 
sadder  than  Bobbie's. 

"But  we  must."  And  Bobbie  made  another 
prolonged  struggle  to  escape  from  her  self  imposed 
trap. 

Pen's  courage  began  to  fail. 

"  It's  no  use,  Bobbie,"  she  said  disconsolately, 
"  I've  stepped  down  into  the  water,  and  kicked  all 
the  patent  leather  off  the  toe  of  my  new  shoe. 
Shall  we  have  to  stay  here  always  ? "  And  her 
voice  died  away  into  a  sob. 

"  Don't  be  silly,  Pen.  Let's  call  Jack  back 
again.  I  hate  to,  for  he'll  laugh  at  us  forever ;  but 
we  can't  stay  here  all  night.  We'll  call  together, 
to  make  more  noise." 

They  did  call,  again  and  again ;  but  only  the 
rushing  water  answered  them  as  it  swept  on  its 
course,  mocking  their  cries  with  its  hoarse  mur- 
mur. Jack,  who  had  climbed  up  the  bank  to  the 
road  and  was  rushing  towards  home  as  fast  as  his 
feet  could  carry  him,  was  too  far  away  to  hear 
their  voices. 

"It's   no   use,"   said   Bobbie   valiantly,   as   she 


BOBBIE'S  EXPLORATIONS.  115 

rubbed  away  the  red  drops  from  a  long  scratch  in 
her  rosy  palm ;  "  but  crying  never  did  anybody  any 
good.  We  must  try  again." 

For  a  long  half-hour  they  struggled  on,  now 
raising  themselves  for  a  few  inches,  now  falling 
back  again,  now  hopeful,  now  despondent  once 
more.  At  length  they  stopped,  exhausted,  and 
looked  at  each  other,  then  out  at  the  yellow  sun- 
shine which  was  beginning  to  slant  along  the  water 
in  pale,  horizontal  beams. 

"  It's  dreadful,  Bobbie.  What  shall  we  ever 
do?  "  And  Penelope  began  to  cry  again,  this  time 
from  sheer  nervousness  and  fatigue. 

"  I'm  so  sorry,  Pen.  I  was  the  one  to  blame ; 
but  I  never  meant  to  get  you  into  such  a  scrape," 
said  Bobbie  consolingly,  for  in  any  real  trouble, 
she  was  always  honorable  in  taking  her  share  of 
the  blame. 

"  I  should  think  it  was  a  scrape."  And  Penel- 
ope laughed  hysterically  through  her  tears.  "  I've 
scratched  all  the  skin  off  my  hands,  and  torn  my 
jacket,  and  made  an  awful  hole  in  my  stocking.  I 
don't  see  why  we  were  such  geese  as  to  get  in 
here." 

"  You'd  better  say  mice,"  returned  Bobbie,  with 
a  giggle,  for  even  in  the  present  crisis,  her  sense 


116  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

of  fun  did  not  desert  her.  "  I  never  saw  any  mice 
in  a  better  trap ;  and  grandma  and  Uncle  Jerry  will 
eat  me  up,  like  a  pair  of  cats,  when  we  do  get  out. 
I  wish  we  never  had  started  ;  but,  now  we're  here, 
we  must  make  the  best  of  it  as  well  as  we  can. 
Jack  saw  us  here,  and  if  we  don't  go  home,  some- 
body will  come  to  look  for  us  before  long." 

Jack,  meanwhile,  was  more  alarmed  by  the  sud- 
den disappearance  of  his  sister  than  he  cared  to 
admit,  even  to  himself.  When  he  had  first  caught 
sight  of  the  two  girls,  they  were  in  a  most  danger- 
ous place,  for  the  smooth,  slippery  rock  slanted 
directly  down  into  the  boiling,  racing  stream  below, 
and  any  misstep,  as  he  had  said,  meant  certain  and 
instant  death.  What  had  sent  the  girls  wandering 
into  that  particular  spot,  he  could  not  imagine ; 
but  now  he  was  far  more  occupied  in  trying  to 
fancy  what  could  have  become  of  them.  Except 
for  the  one  nook  hidden  behind  the  point,  he  had 
not  lost  sight  of  the  river  bank  nor  of  the  road 
above,  so  he  had  been  confident  that  they  were 
concealed  beyond  the  point.  However,  when  he 
reached  the  spot,  no  girls  were  to  be  seen.  They 
both  were  too  substantial  to  have  vanished  into 
thin  air ;  but  how  else  could  they  have  escaped 
him  ?  It  was  like  Bobbie  to  hide ;  but  he  could 


BOBBIE'S  EXPLORATIONS.  117 

see  no  place  for  her,  and,  strange  to  say,  he  never 
thought  of  the  pot-holes. 

For  an  instant,  a  sudden  sickening  fear  made 
him  look  down  at  the  green  water  below,  and 
brought  a  note  of  terror  into  his  voice  as  he 
stood  calling  them.  He  waited  for  the  answer, 
which  did  not  come ;  then  he  turned  away  and 
hurried  home,  sure  that  he  would  find  Bobbie 
standing  on  the  steps  and  mocking  at  his  fears. 
Instead,  he  only  found  the  dangling  wires  of  his 
telephone,  and,  on  the  hall  table,  the  scissors  left 
by  Margaret  after  she  had  opened  Danforth's 
sleeve.  Margaret  and  Danforth  had  not  yet  re- 
turned ;  Grandma  Atherton  was  in  her  room,  and 
there  was  no  use  in  frightening  her,  for  it  might 
be  a  false  alarm.  Still,  where  were  the  girls? 
His  fears  mounted  with  every  moment. 

Half  an  hour  later,  Gerald  Atherton  looked  up 
from  his  writing,  to  see  his  nephew  standing  on 
the  threshold  of  his  office,  his  face  pale  and  his 
dark  eyes  shining  with  excitement. 

"  Uncle  Jerry,  I  can't  find  Bobbie  !  "  he  began 
breathlessly. 

"  Bobbie  ?     Well,  she  isn't  here,  Jack." 

"Yes,  I  know;  but  she's  somewhere,"  urged 
Jack  incoherently.  "  She  isn't  at  home,  and  I've 


118  MAIIGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

just  been  to  Pen's  for  her ;  but  I  can't  find  her 
anywhere." 

"Sit  down,  Jack,  and  get  your  breath."  And 
Uncle  Jerry  pushed  a  chair  towards  him ;  but  Jack 
was  too  restless  to  take  it. 

"You  don't  see  what  I  mean,"  he  went  on 
desperately.  "  I'm  afraid  something  has  happened 
to  them.  The  last  I  saw  of  them,  they  were  on 
the  rocks  just  beside  the  long  rapids,  and  I  went 
to  tell  them  to  look  out ;  but  when  I  came  there, 
they  weren't,  and  I  hunted  everywhere  before  I 
came  to  you,  and  now — " 

"  What  ?  On  the  rocks  in  "the  gorge  !  "  Uncle 
Jerry  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  Tell  me  again,  Jack, 
whom  do  you  mean  by  '  they  ' !  " 

"Bobbie  and  Pen,"  said  Jack  more  quietly, 
for  he  was  half-frightened  by  his  uncle's  sudden 
pallor.  "  They  were  climbing  down  through  the 
gorge  when  I  saw  them  from  the  bridge,  and  I 
went  after  them,  for  I  was  afraid  they'd  get  into  a 
scrape.  Then  I  lost  sight  of  them,  and  when  I 
came  to  where  I'd  seen  them,  they  weren't  any- 
where round.  I  went  home  and  looked,  and  then 
to  Pen's  ;  but  I  didn't  tell  why  I  wanted  them.  I 
thought  I'd  better  come  to  you." 

Uncle   Jerry   was   tossing   his   papers   into   his 


BOBBIE'S  EXPLORATIONS.  119 

desk,  preparatory  to  closing  it ;  then  he  caught  up 
his  hat,  saying  briefly,  — 

"  Come  with  me,  Jack.  We'll  look  in  the  gorge 
again  before  we  alarm  anyone  else."  And  he 
went  hurrying  away  towards  the  river. 

The  sun  was  just  dropping  behind  the  hills  as 
they  crossed  the  bridge,  scrambled  down  the  bank 
to  the  water's  edge  and  started  on  their  toilsome 
climb  over  the  boulders  and  along  the  shelving 
cliffs.  Once  in  a  while  Jack  spoke  a  word  or  two, 
as  he  turned  to  give  his  uncle  his  hand  over  some 
unusually  wide  crevasse;  but,  for  the  most  part, 
they  went  on  in  silence,  peering  this  way  and  that 
through  the  deepening  twilight,  in  the  vain  hope 
of  seeing  the  two  girlish  figures.  As  they  neared 
the  point  of  rocks,  and  saw  no  sign  of  life  Jack's 
heart  was  heavy  with  the  same  old  nameless  dread, 
and  Uncle  Jerry's  thoughts  were  busy  with  men 
and  grappling-irons  and  ropes.  All  at  once  Jack 
stopped  short. 

"  Listen  ! "  he  exclaimed.     "  What's  that  ?  " 
For   a   moment   they  stood   breathless.     Then, 
above  the  roar  of  the  tide,  came  two  high-pitched 
cries, — 

"  Help  !    Somebody  help !    Co-o-ome  he-e-e-ere  ! " 
"  It's  Bobbie !  "     And  the  color  rushed  back  to 


120  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

Jack's  face,  as  he  shouted,  with  the  full  power  of 
his  lungs,  "  All  right ;  we're  coming.  Where  are 
you ! " 

"  In  the  big  po-o-o-ot-ho-o-o-ole."  It  was  Penel- 
ope's voice  which  replied. 

"  Why  don't  you  get  out  ?  "  called  Jack  again. 

Hurrying  in  the  direction  of  the  cries,  Jack  and 
his  uncle  rounded  the  point  of  rocks,  and  dis- 
covered the  pair  of  heads  sticking  up  from  their 
holes  just  as  the  answer  from  two  throats  came 
wailing  back  to  them, — 

"  We  can't." 

It  was  hard-hearted  of  them  both,  surely,  but 
the  revulsion  of  feeling  was  so  great,  and  the  sight 
and  sound  were  so  absurd,  that  together  the  boy 
and  the  man  dropped  down  on  the  rocks  and  burst 
into  a  roar  of  laughter,  while  the  imprisoned  girls 
before  them  begged  and  remonstrated  and  wept 
in  vain.  The  laugh  was  against  them;  and  by 
the  time  they  had  been  fished  from  their  slimy 
depths  and  firmly  planted,  shamefaced,  cramped 
and  bedraggled,  on  top  of  the  rock,  Jack  felt  he 
could  forgive  the  severed  telephone  wire,  and 
Uncle  Jerry  knew  that  he  needed  to  add  no  word 
of  reproof  for  their  rashness. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

LADDIE'S  CHAMPION. 

"  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you,  before 
I  go  over  to  Riverton?"  asked  Margaret,  one 
November  afternoon,  as  she  came  into  the  Wilder- 
ness where  Jack  sat  curled  up  over  the  fire,  read- 
ing and  nursing  a  cold  which  had  kept  him 
housed  for  a  day  or  two. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  there  is,  unless  you  take 
my  head  along  with  you  and  chuck  it  into  the 
river,"  responded  Jack,  yawning  and  stretching 
himself.  "  It  feels  larger  than  an  empty  trunk, 
and  not  half  so  light.  I  wish  you'd  bring  me 
back  something  to  do,  though.  I  might  just  as 
well  be  out,  this  splendid  day." 

"  Where  are  Bobbie  and  Dan  ?  "  inquired  Mar- 
garet. 

"  Bob  is  over  at  the  Stoddards'  and  Dan's  fussing 
around  the  barn  with  the  ponies.  Duke  has  a 
lame  foot,  and  he's  trying  to  find  out  where  the 
trouble  is.  I  say,"  he  added,  as  Margaret  turned 

121 


122  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

to  the  door ;  "  if  you  see  Ellie  anywhere,  send 
him  up  here.  Tell  him  I'm  dying  for  something 
to  do." 

"  I  can  go  round  past  his  house,  just  as  well," 
suggested  Margaret  kindly. 

"  Never  mind  that ;  'twill  take  you  out  of  your 
way  too  much.  I  only  meant  if  you  happened 
to  see  him  ;  that's  all." 

Privately  making  up  her  mind  to  make  a  point 
of  happening  to  see  Jack's  friend,  Margaret  went 
down-stairs  and  out  of  the  house.  It  was  one  of 
the  first  warm  days  of  Indian  summer,  when 
the  haze  lay  soft  upon  the  hills,  throwing  a  sil- 
very light  over  the  ruddy  brown  oak  leaves  which 
still  clung  to  their  branches.  At  her  feet,  the 
river  tossed  and  tumbled  along,  showing  clear 
green  spots  mingled  with  the  white  foam.  And 
at  her  other  hand  rose  the  mountain,  sheer  and 
straight. 

"'And  a  very  high  mountain  overhung  the 
way,' "  she  said  to  herself,  with  a  whimsical 
memory  of  Jack's  struggles  with  his  Caesar,  that 
morning.  Then  she  smiled  at  the  absurdity  of 
associating  the  majestic  progress  of  the  Roman 
army  with  the  quiet  New  England  road  along 
which  she  was  strolling,  with  Laddie  frisking  by 


LADDIE'S  CHAMPION.  123 

her  side.  Jack  was  getting  along  well  in  his 
Latin,  she  thought.  It  was  only  the  fifteenth  of 
November,  and  he  was  already  well  on  in  his 
year's  work ;  Danforth,  too,  for  that  matter ;  only 
he  never  made  the  show  that  Jack  did,  and  — 
The  fifteenth  of  November ! 

Just  a  year  ago  that  very  afternoon,  she  had 
driven  up  to  the  park  with  Hugh.  She  remem- 
bered it  all  so  well,  the  little  bay  horse  and  light 
wagon,  the  long  drive  through  the  city  and  up 
the  winding  road  which  led,,  to  the  top  of  the 
park.  Hugh  had  stopped  the  horse  at  the  top, 
and  they  had  sat  there  for  a  long  time,  gazing 
down  upon  the  city  with  its  elm-fringed  streets 
and  smoke-capped  factories,  and  on  the  sail-dotted 
harbor  beyond,  with  its  long  breakwater  flanked 
with  the  red  lighthouse  and  the  tall  spindles, 
and,  far,  far  away,  the  faint  blue  outline  of  the 
distant  island.  Even  now,  it  was  all  so  fresh  in 
her  mind  that  she  half-believed  that  she  could 
smell  the  faint,  spicy  fragrance  of  Hugh's  inevi- 
table carnation,  and  she  could  see  the  long  shadow 
thrown  across  the  ground  at  the  foot  of  the  monu- 
ment. 

How  she  and  Hugh  had  laughed  at  the  posi- 
tion of  one  of  the  figures  on  that  monument ! 


124  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

Hugh  was  in  an  unusually  gay  mood,  that  day. 
He  had  just  got  back  from  a  long  business  trip, 
and  was  as  happy  as  a  boy  in  the  fine  weather,  and 
the  drive,  and  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her  again. 
Why- 

Turning  suddenly,  Margaret  called  to  Laddie 
who  was  investigating  a  neighboring  hen-house, 
to  the  manifest  discomfort  of  its  inmates.  There 
was  a  little  strained  note  of  irritation  in  her  voice, 
and  Laddie  thought  it  best  to  obey  promptly, 
while  his  mistress  drew  a  long,  slow  breath,  shut 
her  teeth  hard  together  and  quickened  her  pace 
toward  the  bridge. 

Once  across  the  river,  she  turned  aside  from  her 
regular  route  and  went  up  the  long,  hilly  street 
leading  to  the  Piersons'.  Mrs.  Pierson  herself 
met  her  at  the  door,  and  insisted  upon  her  coming 
in  for  a  little  call. 

"  I'm  so  sorry  that  Ellie  isn't  at  home,"  she  said, 
as  she  led  the  way  into  her  pleasant  parlor.  "  I 
hope  Jack  isn't  going  to  be  ill." 

"  Oh,  no ;  it  is  really  nothing  but  a  cold,"  Mar- 
garet replied,  as  she  sat  down.  "He  was  out  in 
the  rain  all  last  Saturday  morning,  and  then,  boy- 
fashion,  he  kept  on  his  wet  shoes  through  the 
afternoon.  Sunday  and  yesterday  he  felt  rather 


LADDIE'S  CHAMPION.  125 

forlorn ;  but  to-day  he's  a  good  deal  better,  and 
had  his  regular  lessons  again.  Mrs.  Atherton 
thought  he'd  better  not  go  out  for  a  day  or  two 
longer,  and  he  looked  so  lonely  that  I  said  I  would 
stop  here  and  ask  Ellie  to  go  over  to  see  him  for 
an  hour." 

"  I  think  Ellsworth  is  over  at  the  Stoddards'," 
said  his  mother,  with  a  little  laugh.  "  He  sat  here 
doing  his  examples  for  to-morrow  morning,  too 
busy  even  to  let  me  speak  to  him,  till  all  at  once 
he  saw  Bobbie  going  home  with  Penelope.  Then 
he  remembered  that  I  had  spoken  of  wanting  to 
send  a  message  to  Mrs.  Stoddard,  and  was  off  like 
a  shot." 

Margaret  laughed  too. 

"Such  devotion  ought  to  be  rewarded,"  she  said. 
"  I  really  can't  tell  whether  Bobbie  is  just  playing, 
or  whether  she  really  is  so  unconscious  of  Ellie's 
adoration  for  her.  They  have  certainly  begun  at 
a  most  tender  age." 

"  What  can  you  do  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Pierson  help- 
lessly. "Anything  that  I  can  say  would  only 
make  it  worse,  for  it  would  seem  as  if  we  regarded 
it  as  a  serious  affair,  and  they  would  pose  as  a 
pair  of  persecuted  lovers.  It's  contrary  to  all  my 
ideas ;  but  I  am  hoping  that,  if  we  don't  take  any 


126  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

notice  of  it,  and  if  Bobbie  goes  on  snubbing  him 
as  vigorously  as  she  has  done,  Ellie's  love-affair 
will  die  a  natural  death.  It  is  funny,  though,  in 
spite  of  everything;  and  I  have  to  laugh,  even 
when  I  long  to  put  him  to  bed  without  his  supper, 
as  a  gentle  reminder  that  he  is  nothing  but  an 
infant." 

"Poor  little  fellow,  he  is  so  in  earnest  and  has 
so  little  idea  of  his  own  comicality !  "  And  Mar- 
garet smiled,  as  she  recalled  certain  scenes  be- 
tween the  two  children.  "My  only  fear  is  that 
Bobbie  will  catch  the  disease  from  him,  and  I 
shudder  to  think  of  the  teasing  they  would  have 
to  endure  from  Jack  and  Danforth,  for  they 
neither  of  them  are  of  a  particularly  sentimental 
turn  of  mind,  and  they  regard  girls  as  an  unmiti- 
gated bore." 

"I  wish  Ellie  did,"  said  his  mother  fervently. 
"But  I  wonder  why  it  is,  Miss  Davis,  that  our 
own  love-affairs  are  always  so  tragic,  and  other 
people's  so  comic.  It's  as  true  with  children  as  it 
is  with  grown  people."  She  paused  for  a  moment; 
then  she  went  on,  with  an  utter  change  of  subject, 
"  I  am  very  much  delighted  to-day  over  a  bit  of 
family  news,  and  while  it  can't  interest  you,  I  am 
going  to  be  egotistic  enough  to  tell  you  about  it. 


,  LADDIE'S  CHAMPION.  127 

You  know,  I  suppose,  that  there  has  been  some 
trouble  about  putting  in  our  new  electric  road; 
and  the  president  of  the  company  has  sent  off  the 
head  electrician  and  all  his  men.  I  don't  know 
enough  about  it  to  understand  the  justice  of  the 
matter ;  but  what  interests  me  is  that  my  favorite 
cousin  has  just  been  put  in  charge  of  the  work." 

"  How  delightful  for  you !  "  And  Margaret's 
voice  showed  a  sympathetic  pleasure  which  her 
hostess  was  quick  to  feel. 

"  Yes,  I  am  very  happy  over  'it,  for  Hugh  is  a 
dear  fellow,  one  of  those  intimate  cousins  who 
seem  almost  like  brothers." 

"  And  when  will  he  come  ? "  asked  Margaret, 
conscious  that  her  heart  gave  a  quick  throb,  at  the 
unexpected  coincidence  of  names. 

"  Very  soon,  for  he  is  to  finish  putting  in  the 
road,  and  to  stay  here  for  a  year,  as  managing  elec- 
trician. I  had  hoped  he  would  make  his  home 
with  us ;  but  he  was  here  a  day  or  two  ago,  and 
he  said  that,  for  the  present  at  least,  he  must  be 
farther  down  town,  within  reach  of  the  power- 
house." 

"  But  you  will  see  him  so  often." 

"I  know  that,  and  I  am  delighted  to  have  so 
much.  Please  tell  Mr.  Atherton — the  younger 


128  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTQR. 

one,  I  mean  —  that  I  shall  want  him  to  dine  here 
soon,  to  meet  Mr.  Thornton.  He  will  be  here  the 
first  of  next  week.  But  tell  me,  Miss  Davis,"  she 
asked,  pausing  suddenly  ;  "aren't  you  working  too 
hard  with  your  pupils  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  you're 
not  looking  quite  as  well  as  you  did  when  you  first 
came  up  here.  I  didn't  notice  it  when  you  came 
in,  after  being  out  in  the  air."  And  Mrs.  Pierson 
put  on  her  eye-glasses,  and  stared  at  Margaret's 
white  face  with  a  close  scrutiny  which  was  almost 
impossible  to  bear. 

With  a  strong  effort,  Margaret  rallied. 

"  I'm  quite  well,"  she  said,  with  a  forced  laugh. 
"  Your  hill  air  is  agreeing  with  me  splendidly ;  I 
have  a  most  remarkable  appetite,  and  I  sleep  like 
a  dormouse.  I've  only  a  little  headache  to-day," 
she  added,  seeking  refuge  in  woman's  one  ex- 
cuse for  every  unexplained  mood  and  tense  of  her 
being. 

"  I'm  glad  if  that  is  all,"  said  the  older  woman 
kindly,  as  Margaret  rose  to  go.  "  I  thought  you 
looked  a  little  tired.  Gerald  has  told  me  how 
much  time  you  are  giving  to  those  children,  and  I 
never  see  Jack  without  his  quoting  Miss  Davis  in 
some  connection  or  other.  Must  you  go?  Come 
again." 


LADDIE'S  CHAMPION.  129 

Once  out  in  the  street  again,  Margaret  walked 
rapidly  onward,  without  knowing  nor  caring  in 
which  direction  she  turned.  She  only  felt  the 
need  of  prompt  physical  action,  until  she  could 
tire  herself  out  and  grow  quiet  enough  to  allow 
herself  to  think  connectedly.  She  told  herself 
over  and  over  again  that  there  was  no  possibility 
that  her  old  friend  and  Mrs.  Pierson's  cousin  were 
one  and  the  same  person.  And  yet,  it  did  seem 
strange  that  there  should  be  two  men  named  Hugh 
Thornton,  and  occupied  in  the  same  professional 
work.  And  if  it  should  really  be  her  friend,  what 
then  ?  Living  so  far  out  of  Riverton,  she  might 
not  see  him  at  all.  Moreover,  she  was  not  at  all 
sure  that  she  wished  to  see  him,  unless  he  would 
give  her  the  opportunity  to  explain  the  misunder- 
standing which  had  come  up  between  them.  Even 
then,  he  might  not  be  of  the  same  mind  that  he 
was  eight  months  ago. 

"It's  too  bad! "  she  said  to  herself  forlornly.  "I 
was  just  learning  to  forget  all  about  it,  and  now  it 
is  worse  than  ever.  What's  the  use  of  trying?" 
The  last  words  came  with  a  little  half-suppressed 
sob ;  but  fortunately  there  was  no  one  to  hear  it 
but  Laddie,  who  showed  his  sympathy  by  abandon- 
ing the  pursuit  of  an  inoffensive  kitten  and  coming 


130  MAKGAKET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

to  frisk  about  his  mistress,  leaving  the  prints  of 
his  dusty  toes  all  over  the  front  of  her  gown. 

"  Do  you  remember  him,  Laddie  ?  "  Margaret 
asked  half-in voluntarily.  "Listen,  Laddie;  where's 
Mr.  Thornton?" 

For  one  short  instant,  Laddie  stood  still,  with 
his  ears  cocked  forward  and  his  face  turned  in- 
quiringly up  toward  his  mistress,  who  was  watch- 
ing the  workings  of  his  canine  mind. 

"  Go  find  him,  Laddie,"  she  added,  after  a  mo- 
ment. 

And  Laddie  gave  one  wild  bark  of  perfect  com- 
prehension, as  he  dashed  away  up  the  street,  not 
in  search  of  his  old  friend,  but  in  joyous  pursuit  of 
the  kitten  who  had  taken  advantage  of  the  tem- 
porary cessation  of  hostilities,  to  descend  from  the 
tree  to  which  her  foe  had  driven  her. 

Unconsciously  Margaret  had  taken  the  same 
direction  that  she  and  Danforth  had  done,  a  month 
before ;  and  now,  finding  herself  so  near  the  spot 
where  they  had  sat  and  rested,  she  walked  on 
again  until  she  reached  the  self-same  rock.  There 
she  dropped  down  and,  resting  her  elbows  on  her 
knees  and  her  chin  in  her  hands,  she  sat  for  a 
long  time,  gazing  out  across  the  little  basin 
with  dreamy,  sad,  unseeing  eyes,  while  Laddie,  at 


LADDIE'S  CHAMPION.  131 

last  reading  something  of  her  mood,  sat  down  by 
her  side  and  rubbed  his  cold  nose  against  her 
cheek. 

Half  an  hour  later,  she  was  walking  toward 
home  again,  with  her  usual  quick,  firm  step,  al- 
though her  cheeks  were  a  little  pale  and  her  eyes 
suspiciously  bright.  She  was  just  passing  through 
one  of  the  small  streets  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
city,  not  far  from  the  factories  which  filled  the 
point  between  the  two  rivers,  and  Laddie,  all  his 
antics  exhausted,  was  trudging  soberly  by  her  side, 
when  Margaret  gave  a  sudden  shriek  of  terror. 

Rushing  out  from  a  little  yard  close  by,  a 
white  bulldog  which  to  Margaret's  excited  imagi- 
nation looked  as  large  and  ferocious  as  a  lion,  had 
pounced  upon  the  unsuspecting  Laddie  who,  all 
unused  to  this  kind  of  an  attack,  had  abjectly 
rolled  over  on  his  back  and  helplessly  extended 
his  four  legs  in  the  air,  in  a  mute  appeal  for  assist- 
ance. His  adversary,  not  slow  to  see  his  advan- 
tage and  to  follow  it  up,  had  seized  him  by  the 
throat  in  the  unrelaxing  hold  of  the  bulldog  kind ; 
and  for  the  next  few  moments,  there  followed  the 
mingled  growls  of  anger  and  yelps  of  pain,  so 
terrible  even  to  the  impartial  observer,  so  doubly 
terrible  where  one's  own  dog  is  the  under  one  in 


132  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

the  fight.  Margaret,  unusually  excitable  after  her 
call  and  her  lonely  half-hour  on  the  rock,  and  seri- 
ously alarmed  for  her  pet,  ran  frantically  forward 
for  a  few  steps,  ran  back  again  ;  then,  bursting  into 
tears  as  a  prolonged  howl  from  Laddie,  and  an 
angry  snarl  from  the  other  dog  showed  but  too 
well  how  the  contest  must  end,  she  rushed  for- 
ward again  and  seized  Laddie  by  his  fluffy  golden 
tail,  in  a  vain  attempt  to  free  him  from  the  iron 
grip  upon  his  throat. 

"  Let  'em  alone !  You'll  get  bit ;  and  he's  my 
dog,  so  I'll  see  fair  play,"  shouted  a  voice  in  her 
ear. 

Turning,  she  saw  a  short,  stout  man  in  shirt- 
sleeves and  slippers,  whose  face  alone  might  have 
told  the  story  of  his  relationship  to  the  white  dog. 

"  Do  help  me  ! "  she  begged. 

The  man  laughed  impudently. 

"  What  for?  Let  'em  fight  it  out.  You  didn't 
have  to  come  by  here,  you  know.  I  aint  a-goin'  to 
touch  my  dog,  and  you^d  better  let  yours  alone. 
That  dog  of  mine  is  a  daisy." 

Terrified  at  the  face  and  words  of  the  stranger, 
Margaret  fled  to  a  little  distance ;  then,  as  she  saw 
her  pet  being  demolished  before  her  very  eyes, 
she  lost  all  self-control.  Regardless  of  the  crowd 


LADDIE'S  CHAMPION.  133 

rapidly  gathering  in  the  street,  she  sobbed  aloud 
while  she  hopped  up  and  down  on  the  pavement, 
and  incoherently  informed  an  elderly  Irishwoman 
standing  near,  that  Laddie  was  her  dearest  friend 
and  that  some  one  must  save  him. 

Poor  Laddie's  struggles  were  growing  faint  and 
fainter,  and  Margaret  had  turned  away  that  she 
might  not  see  the  end,  when  a  carriage  came  in 
sight,  around  a  corner  a  little  way  up  the  street. 
As  it  drew  nearer,  Margaret  looked  up ;  then,  recog- 
nizing the  pale,  calm  face  and  great  dark  eyes  of 
the  driver,  and  realizing  that  here  was  a  friend  at 
last,  she  dashed  out  into  the  middle  of  the  street, 
crying,  — 

"  Mr.  Huntington,  save  my  dog !  " 

Under  some  circumstances,  it  might  have  been 
a  dramatic  situation ;  but  to  call  upon  a  minister 
of  a  most  unworldly  temperament  and  an  undeni- 
ably delicate  physique  to  interfere  in  a  serious 
dog-fight,  would  have  presented  certain  incongrui- 
ties to  Margaret's  mind  in  her  calmer  moments. 
However,  no  such  idea  occurred  to  Mr.  Hunting- 
ton,  who  reined  in  his  horse  just  as  that  aston- 
ished animal  was  about  to  step  on  the  excited, 
tearful  young  woman  in  his  path,  and  exclaimed 
in  amazement, — 


134  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"  Miss  Davis  !     Is  it  possible  ?  " 

"  Save  Laddie !  "  she  begged  again.  "  He's  my 
own  dog,  and  I  do  love  him  so.  Do  save  him  ! 
Help  me!" 

Without  stopping  for  a  word,  Mr.  Huntington 
passed  the  reins  to  his  companion,  leaped  to  the 
ground,  whip  in  hand,  and  walked  straight  to  the 
scene  of  action.  There  is  no  record  that  any  of 
King  Arthur's  knights  ever  championed  the  cause 
of  a  victim  of  a  dog-fight;  but  no  knight  of  the 
Round  Table  ever  showed  a  greater  spirit  of 
chivalry  than  did  the  quiet  little  minister,  when 
he  replied  to  the  threats  of  the  angry  owner  of  the 
dog,  with  the  simple  word,  — 

"This  lady  has  asked  me  to  help  her,  and  I 
shall  do  so." 

Then  came  an  exciting  interval  while  Mr. 
Huntington  remorselessly  battered  the  dog's  head 
with  the  heavy  handle  of  his  whip,  and  the  dog's 
irate  master  vainly  shook  his  fists  and  vowed 
vengeance.  Margaret,  meanwhile,  had  squeezed 
herself  between  the  wheels  of  the  carriage,  and 
buried  her  head  in  the  lap  of  Mr.  Huntington's 
elderly  housekeeper,  as  she  sobbed  forth  the 
minutest  details  of  Laddie's  pedigree  and  accom- 
plishments. At  last  it  was  ended,  and  Margaret, 


LADDIE'S  CHAMPION.  135 

alarmed  at  the  sudden  silence,  looked  up  to  see 
Mr.  Huntington  drawn  to  his  fullest  height  and 
delivering  a  few  plain  truths  to  the  owner  of  the 
bulldog,  who  was  examining  the  head  of  his  fav- 
orite with  apparent  anxiety.  Then  the  minister 
turned  on  his  heel  and  came  back  to  the  carriage, 
with  Laddie  limping  along  beside  him.  Forgetful 
of  all  else,  Margaret  dropped  down  on  her  knees 
by  the  dog,  and  caught  his  yellow  head  in  her 
arms.  Then  she  seemed  to  come  to  herself,  and 
she  rose  again,  with  a  blush  of  shame,  as  she  real- 
ized her  behavior  of  the  last  fifteen  minutes. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Huntington,  I'm  so  grateful !  "  she 
said,  while  the  deep  color  came  up  over  her  cheeks 
and  brow.  "  Please  don't  think  me  too  great  a 
baby ;  but  it  was  all  so  dreadful,  and  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  you,  Laddie  would  have  been  killed. 
How  can  I  thank  you  ?  " 

"It  was  nothing,"  answered  the  young  man 
kindly ;  "  I  am  only  too  glad  that  we  chanced  to 
be  passing.  We  had  been  out  to  see  some  people 
across  the  river,  and  we  took  this  way  home  be- 
cause it  was  late  and  we  were  in  a  hurry.  But  I 
hope  that  Laddie  will  be  all  right  now,"  he  added 
cheerfully.  "  He  was  more  frightened  than  hurt." 

"But  I  hate  to  have  him  have   such  nervous 


136  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOK. 

shocks,"  said  Margaret,  with  a  quick  rush  of  tears 
which  prevented  her  seeing  the  little  involuntary 
smile  on  Mr.  Huntington's  lips. 

"I  am  much  more  afraid  that  you  will  be  the 
worse  for  the  shock,"  he  said  gravely.  "  But,  at 
least,  you  must  ride  home  with  us.  There  isn't 
much  room,  and  I  would  walk  ;  but  I  think  you 
are  in  no  condition  to  drive  this  frisky  horse." 

"  I  can't  leave  Laddie,"  protested  Margaret. 
"  He  is  too  lame  to  run  and  keep  up  with  us,  and 
I  dare  not  leave  him.  The  other  dog  might  come 
back."  And  she  glanced  apprehensively  over  her 
shoulder. 

Mr.  Huntington  hesitated.  He  saw  that  she 
was  completely  unstrung  and  nervous  from  the 
sudden  fright,  and  that  she  was  in  no  condition 
to  take  the  long  walk  home  in  the  gathering 
twilight.  On  the  other  hand,  his  carriage  was 
small  and  was  already  well-filled,  with  only  him- 
self and  his  plump  old  housekeeper,  together  with 
several  pails  and  baskets,  emptied  in  the  course 
of  his  pastoral  calls.  He  dared  not  trust  either 
woman  to  drive  the  gay  little  horse  he  was  using, 
that  afternoon,  nor  could  he  well  ask  his  aged 
companion  to  give  up  her  place  to  an  invalid 
collie. 


LADDIE'S  CHAMPION.  137 

"Perhaps,"  he  suggested  at  length,  "perhaps, 
if  we  pack  ourselves  in  very  closely,  we  can  all 
ride." 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't  allow  that ;  let  me  walk  home 
with  Laddie.  I'm  not  afraid, —  at  least,  not  very," 
said  Margaret  falteringly. 

"  I  really  dislike  to  leave  you  in  this  part  of  the 
town,  so  late  and  alone,"  he  answered,  with  a 
gentle  insistence.  "I  think  we  can  manage  very 
well,  if  you  will  forgive  a  little  crowding.  Come." 
And  stretching  out  his  hand,  he  helped  Margaret 
to  climb  into  the  carriage.  Then,  seizing  Laddie 
in  his  arms,  he  put  him  on  the  floor,  between  the 
baskets,  stepped  in  after  him  and,  all  together, 
they  started  for  home,  with  Margaret  sitting  in 
the  housekeeper's  lap  and  embracing  a  vast  tin 
pail,  while  Mr.  Huntington's  foot  and  Laddie's 
tail  dangled  out  at  the  right  side  of  the  narrow 
little  carriage. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LADDIE   STUDIES   THEOLOGY. 

IF  Margaret  had  feared  that  her  manner,  at 
dinner  that  night,  might  betray  any  of  the  agita- 
tion caused  by  her  call  on  Mrs.  Pierson,  she  had 
reason  to  be  grateful  to  Laddie  for  saving  her 
from  all  comments.  In  their  excitement  over 
her  account  of  the  contest  and  her  rescue,  tin 
family  neglected  to  give  any  but  a  passing  atten- 
tion to  Margaret,  and  attributed  her  pale  face  to 
the  result  of  the  fright.  But  after  Laddie's 
wounds  were  dressed,  and  he  was  put  to  bed  in 
a  corner  of  Margaret's  own  room,  when  the  family 
finally  gathered  about  the  table,  Margaret  told 
over  again  the  whole  story  of  the  fight,  sparing 
herself  in  no  way,  but  dwelling  with  a  mischievous 
frankness  of  detail  upon  her  frantic  appeal  to  Mr. 
Huntington,  his  valiant  coming  to  her  aid,  and  his 
final  benevolence  in  packing  them  both  into  his 
little  carriage  and  bringing  them  home. 

"  'Twas  dreadfully  ignominious,"  she  confessed, 
138 


LADDIE    STUDIES    THEOLOGY.  139 

as  soon  as  she  could  make  herself  heard  above  the 
shouts  of  the  boys.  "  I  had  always  supposed  that 
I  should  be  a  model  of  calmness  in  an  emergency. 
I  have  a  dim  idea  that  I  cried  out  loud,  and  I 
know  that  I  informed  Mr.  Huntington  that  Laddie 
was  my  only  friend  on  earth,  but  that  he  might 
have  him,  to  pay  for  saving  him.  What  must  the 
man  think  of  me  ?  " 

"  When  he  drove  up  to  the  house,  he  looked  as 
if  he  thought  you  took  up  a  good  deal  of  room," 
said  Jack,  laughing  again  at  the  recollection. 
"  The  poor  man  was  half  out  of  the  carriage,  and 
Laddie  looked  ready  to  tumble  out,  too,  perched 
up  on  top  of  that  basket.  I  hope  you  had  a 
pleasant  ride." 

A  week  later,  Mr.  Huntington  called  to  inquire 
for  the  invalid  and  the  invalid's  mistress.  Mar- 
garet, by  that  time,  had  fully  recovered  from  the 
shock  and  excitement,  and  she  apologized  so 
merrily  for  her  misbehavior  that  Mr.  Huntington 
gained  the  impression  that  it  was  rather  an  ac- 
complishment than  otherwise  for  a  young  woman 
to  lose  her  self-control  under  trying  circumstances, 
and  demand  the  protection  of  a  comparative 
stranger.  Then  Laddie  was  brought  in  to  make 
friends  with  his  preserver,  who,  influenced  as 


140  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

much  by  Laddie's  mistress  as  by  Laddie  himself, 
petted  the  dog  in  a  way  which  he  repented  later, 
for  Laddie  had  an  excellent  memory  and  rarely 
forgot  a  friend  or  a  foe. 

It  would  be  hard  to  say  just  what  caused  the 
luckless  combination  of  circumstances  which  took 
place,  the  next  Sunday  morning.  Margaret  had 
announced  her  intention  of  staying  at  home  from 
church  with  Grandma  Atherton,  who  was  not 
feeling  quite  well,  so  the  three  children  had  gone 
away  with  their  uncle  and  grandfather,  leaving 
the  house  in  perfect  quiet. 

Much  as  Margaret  enjoyed  the  ministrations  of 
Mr.  Huntington,  who  was  always  at  ease  and  at 
his  best  in  his  desk,  she  found  the  Sunday-morning 
hour  spent  in  church  rather  a  trying  one,  owing 
to  the  eccentricities  of  Grandpa  Atherton.  On 
account  of  his  extreme  deafness,  the  family  occu- 
pied one  of  the  front  pews  of  the  large  church, 
where,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  Grandpa  Atherton 
took  his  place  and  followed  the  opening  services 
of  the  day  with  profound  interest.  Then,  as  soon 
as  Mr.  Huntington,  sermon  in  hand,  advanced  to 
the  desk,  Margaret  knew  that  the  time  had  come 
when  she  must  use  all  her  self-control  to  keep 
from  laughing.  During  the  early  part  of  the 


LADDIE   STUDIES   THEOLOGY.  141 

sermon,  Grandpa  Atherton  sat  with  strained  atten- 
tion and  uplifted  trumpet,  to  catch  the  words  which 
fell  from  the  lips  of  the  young  clergyman,  nodding 
violently  from  time  to  time,  in  vigorous  approval 
of  his  sentiments.  This  was  bad  enough  for  any 
one  not  used  to  his  peculiarities  ;  but  unfortunately 
Grandpa  Atherton  did  not  stop  here.  On  the 
contrary,  as  soon  as  the  minister  let  fall  some 
opinion  with  which  the  old  man  did  not  quite 
agree,  or  when  Grandpa  Atherton  thought  that  he 
had  listened  long  enough  and  it  was  time  for  the 
sermon  to  be  ended,  he  had  a  fashion  of  suddenly 
dropping  his  trumpet,  whirling  around  in  his  pew- 
corner  until  he  could  fix  his  eyes  far  back  on  the 
side  wall  of  the  church,  and  sitting  there  in  an 
attitude  of  stolid  unconcern  most  disheartening  to 
his  youthful  spiritual  adviser. 

It  had  taken  the  children  a  long  time  to  get 
used  to  the  demonstrations  of  their  grandfather, 
and  even  now  Uncle  Jerry  found  it  necessary  to 
put  Jack  at  the  extreme  inner  end  of  the  pew, 
and  to  have  Bobbie  sit  at  his  other  side,  in  order 
to  prevent  an  explosion.  But  for  Margaret,  who 
lost  her  self-control  far  too  easily,  there  was  no 
such  way  of  escape.  She  found  herself  watching 
for  the  dreaded  moment  with  such  anxiety  lest  she 


142  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

should  disgrace  herself,  that  when  it  really  did 
come,  she  was  farther  than  ever  from  being  able  to 
meet  it  with  calmness.  On  this  account,  she 
made  the  most  of  every  excuse  to  absent  herself 
from  church,  whenever  Grandpa  Atherton  was 
going  to  be  present.  Moreover,  since  her  late 
adventure  with  Mr.  Huntington,  she  felt  that  it 
would  be  more  than  usually  difficult  to  sit  un- 
moved under  his  preaching,  for  they  both  were 
conscious  of  an  almost  irresistible  desire  to  laugh 
outright,  whenever  they  came  face  to  face. 

This  particular  morning  was  one  of  those  bright, 
breezy  days  which  seem  to  arouse  a  spirit  of  hilar- 
ity in  everything  which  is  young  and  alive.  While 
she  was  dressing,  Margaret  had  seen  Danforth 
racing  up  and  down  the  lawn  with  Laddie  who, 
in  spite  of  an  ugly  wound  just  back  of  his  yellow 
ruff,  had  quite  recovered  his  spirits,  and  who  was 
already  nearly  as  fond  of  the  boy  as  he  was  of  his 
mistress.  Later,  she  had  stood  in  the  door,  watch- 
ing them  as  they  set  off  for  church,  and  laughing 
at  the  antics  of  Jack  and  Bobbie  who  brought  up 
the  rear  of  the  little  procession.  Fortunately  for 
her  peace  of  mind,  she  was  unable  to  see  what 
followed. 

The  opening  invocation  and  anthem  were  ended, 


LADDIE   STUDIES   THEOLOGY.  143 

and  Mr.  Huntington  had  just  risen  to  read  the 
scripture  lesson,  when  there  was  heard  a  little 
creak  from  the  light,  swinging  door  at  the  en- 
trance, followed  by  a  soft  pad,  pad,  coming  up 
the  aisle.  A  moment  later,  Grandpa  Atherton 
was  aroused  from  his  devotions  by  a  violent  push 
against  his  knee.  As  he  involuntarily  moved  a 
little  to  make  room  for  the  supposed  stranger, 
Laddie  wriggled  past  him  into  the  pew,  wagging 
his  tail  in  rapturous  welcome.  He  sniffed  at  each 
member  of  the  family  in  turn  and,  mounting  the 
seat  by  Danforth's  side,  he  pressed  his  cold  nose 
against  the  boy's  neck,  with  a  suddenness  which 
called  forth  a  half-stifled  exclamation  from  Dan- 
forth  and  a  giggle  from  Jack.  Then,  as  the  dog 
settled  down  upon  the  cushion,  his  wandering 
attention  was  caught  by  the  sound  of  Mr.  Hunt- 
ington's  voice,  and  he  cocked  up  his  ears  in  glad 
recognition.  Here  was  surely  a  friend,  and  one 
who  had  been  good  to  him,  reasoned  Laddie,  and 
he  had  neglected  to  express  his  joy  at  the  unex- 
pected meeting.  Before  Danforth  could  divine 
his  intention  and  lay  a  restraining  hand  upon  his 
collar,  Laddie  had  jumped  from  his  seat,  pushed 
his  way  out  into  the  aisle  again,  and  gone  rushing 
forward  to  the  desk,  swinging  his  tail  round  and 


144  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

round,  in  a  series  of  circles  symbolic  of  his  com- 
plete happiness  in  once  again  beholding  his  pre- 
server. 

In  the  midst>of  his  reading,  Mr.  Huntington 
had  been  following  the  dog's  performances,  with 
amused  eyes  ;  but  he  was  not  prepared  for  the 
greeting  which  followed,  and  he  tottered  in  his 
place  as  Laddie,  rising  on  his  hind  legs,  plunged 
forward  upon  him,  resting  his  paws  on  the  minis- 
terial arm,  and  stretching  up  to  caress  the  min- 
isterial cheek  with  fervor.  It  was  only  the  work 
of  a  moment ;  then,  as  the  dog  dropped  back 
again,  Mr.  Huntington  gave  a  sigh  of  relief,  and 
breathed  up  a  voiceless  petition  that  Laddie  might 
be  moved  to  go  away.  Nothing,  however,  was 
further  from  Laddie's  mind.  His  new  position  at 
his  friend's  side  was  quite  to  his  liking.  In  spite 
of  Danforth's  suppressed  calls  and  snapping  of  his 
fingers,  Laddie  sat  immovable  beside  the  desk, 
with  his  soft  yellow  ears  turned  expressively  for- 
ward and  his  tongue  lolling  out  of  his  mouth,  as 
if  in  perfect  derision  at  his  temporary  master, 
while  he  turned  now  and  again  to  glance  up  at 
Mr.  Huntington  with  a  deprecating  yawn,  which 
was  even  more  trying  to  the  young  clergyman  than 
were  the  demonstrations  of  Grandpa  Atherton. 


LADDIE   STUDIES   THEOLOGY.  145 

Already  there  were  signs  of  an  outbreak  on  the 
part  of  the  younger  members  of  the  congregation, 
and  Uncle  Jerry  was  just  bending  over  to  tell 
Danforth  to  go  forward  and  remove  the  dog  by 
force,  when  the  final  catastrophe  occurred.  Dur- 
ing some  moments,  Mr.  Huntington's  increasing 
nervousness  had  been  evident  to  all,  for  the  color 
in  his  cheeks  had  grown  bright,  and  again  and 
again  his  finger  had  sought  his  unsteady  lip.  At 
length,  in  his  confusion,  he  made  a  little  hasty 
gesture  which  knocked  down  from  the  desk  his 
carefully-written  sermon. 

Now  at  home  Laddie's  chief  amusement  had  con- 
sisted in  what  Mollie  called  "  reading  the  paper  "  ; 
and  she  never  wearied  of  giving  him  a  loosely- 
folded  newspaper,  and  watching  him  while  he 
wildly  flapped  it  to  and  fro,  to  enjoy  its  rattle,  or 
plowed  it  along  the  floor,  worrying  it  as  he  would 
have  done  a  sleepy  kitten.  But  since  he  had 
come  to  live  at  the  Athertons',  no  papers  had  been 
offered  for  his  perusal,  and  Laddie's  puppy  soul 
was  longing  for  an  old-time  frolic.  Here  and 
now  was  his  chance,  and  he  determined  to  make 
the  most  of  it.  Darting  forward,  he  caught  up 
the  loose  sheets  of  manuscript  and  went  galloping 
across  the  platform,  growling  and  shaking  his  head 


146  MARGARET  DAVIS,  TUTOR. 

with  a  violence  that  sent  bits  of  paper  flying  far 
to  the  left  and  right,  while  he  flirted  his  tail  in 
contemptuous  defiance  of  his  pursuant  who  dodged 
about  the  desk,  vainly  seeking  to  catch  him.  The 
unsanctified  game  of  tag  lasted  for  some  moments  ; 
but  the  limits  of  the  platform  were  too  narrow  and 
Laddie  felt  that  he  needed  a  wider  field;  so, 
leaping  down  to  the  floor  and  scurrying  past  the 
horrified  occupants  of  the  Atherton  pew,  he  went 
plunging  down  the  aisle,  with  his  nose,  sermon 
and  all,  rooting  along  on  the  carpet  and  leaving 
behind  him  a  trail  strongly  suggestive  of  hare  and 
hounds.  Then  the  swinging  doors  creaked  and 
clattered  as  he  dashed  through  them,  and  the 
astonished  congregation  could  only  join  their 
pastor  in  an  ill-suppressed  laugh,  while  Laddie 
went  capering  away  toward  home,  bearing  in  his 
mouth  their  weekly  portion  of  exhortation  and 
encouragement  for  their  spiritual  needs. 

From  her  seat  by  the  front  window,  Margaret 
saw  him  come  leisurely  strolling  up  the  hill  with 
a  solemn  air  of  preoccupation  which  was  in 
perfect  harmony  with  the  day, '  while  from  his 
mouth  there  dangled  a  few  dingy  shreds  of  paper. 
Experience  had  taught  her,  that,  with  Laddie,  this 
subdued  mood  was  always  an  infallible  sign  that 


LADDIE   STUDIES   THEOLOGY.  147 

he  had  been  in  mischief,  so  she  hastily  dropped 
her  book,  and  went  out  on  the  steps  to  investigate. 
At  sight  of  his  mistress,  Laddie  paused  and 
abstractedly  contemplated  the  fleecy  white  clouds 
above  his  head ;  then,  seeing  that  there  was  no 
way  of  escape,  he  came  forward  and  deposited 
his  trophy  at  Margaret's  feet.  Margaret  looked 
at  the  soiled,  crumpled  paper  before  her,  and 
picked  it  up  gingerly ;  the  next  moment  she  sank 
down  on  the  step,  with  a  little  groan  of  mortifica- 
tion. She  had  easily  recognized  the  writing  as 
that  of  Mr.  Huntington,  and  on  the  scrap  of  paper 
in  her  hand,  she  read  the  words,  — 

"And  finally,  my  brethren,  the  apostle  tells  us 
that  we  ought  to  be  strong  and  steadfast  in  the 
pursuit  of  the  enemy.  But  who  is  the  enemy, 
and  how  shall  we  overtake  him  ?  " 

If  it  had  been  difficult  for  Margaret  to  face  Mr. 
Huntington  after  her  excited  appeal  for  his  help, 
it  was  doubly  so  now,  since  Laddie's  latest  esca- 
pade; and  not  even  the  minister's  courteous 
answer  to  her  note  of  apology  could  entirely 
remove  her  feeling  that  her  pet  had  brought  ever- 
lasting disgrace  upon  her  head.  However,  within 
a  few  days  Margaret  forgot  all  else,  in  her  anxiety 
about  the  dog  who  suddenly  began  to  droop  in  an 


148  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

inexplicable  way  and  grew  rapidly  weaker,  in 
spite  of  the  constant  attentions  of  his  mistress 
and  Danforth.  At  length,  yielding  to  his  nephew's 
entreaties,  Uncle  Jerry  sent  up  a  doctor  to  look 
at  the  invalid,  and,  after  a  careful  examination, 
Laddie  was  pronounced  to  be  suffering  from  the 
effects  of  his  still  unhealed  wound. 

"  The  best  thing  for  him,"  said  the  doctor,  just 
as  he  was  going  away  from  the  house ;  "  the  best 
thing  for  him  would  be  to  take  him  down  to  the 
river,  some  warm  morning,  and  let  him  have  a 
good  bath.  The  more  water  he  has,  the  better 
for  him,  provided  he  doesn't  take  cold." 

Accordingly,  on  the  next  clear  day  Danforth 
started  off  to  give  Laddie  his  prescribed  bath  in 
a  little,  still  cove  in  the  river  bank4  not  far  above 
the  dam.  Jack  and  Bobbie  stood  looking  after 
them  as  they  walked  away  down  the  hill,  with 
Laddie,  too  weak  for  any  puppy  pranks,  trudging 
along  dejectedly  at  the  end  of  his  lead,  and  Dan- 
forth carrying  a  pair  of  tall  rubber  boots  tied 
together  and  slung  over  his  shoulder,  so  that,  if 
need  be,  he  could  encourage  Laddie  by  wading 
into  the  water  ahead  of  him.  It  had  been  per- 
fectly characteristic  of  the  three  children  that, 
while  Jack  and  Bobbie  had  been  loud  in  their 


LADDIE   STUDIES   THEOLOGY.  149 

expressions  of  pity  for  the  dog,  and  anxious  that 
he  should  have  the  best  of  care,  Danforth  had 
been  the  one  to  come  to  Margaret's  help,  and  offer 
to  go  with  him  upon  the  somewhat  disagreeable 
errand.  In  fact,  Margaret  had  soon  discovered 
that  it  always  seemed  so  much  easier  for  Danforth 
to  do  the  unpleasant  things,  that  his  brother  and 
sister  usually  stood  aside  and  allowed  him  to  take 
the  lead. 

Three  quarters  of  an  hour  later,  Grandma 
Atherton  came  hurrying  into  the  library  where 
Margaret  was  helping  Jack  to  stumble  through 
the  first  page  of  the  Anabasis.  Her  face  was 
pale,  and  her  dainty  lace  cap  was  pushed  slightly 
to  one  side,  an  evidence  of  great  excitement  in 
the  precise  little  woman. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Davis ! "  she  began,  as  soon  as  she 
reached  the  threshold ;  "  there's  a  man  coming  up 
the  hill,  a  strange  man  with  Danforth's  boots  in 
his  hand.  Can't  you  come  and  speak  to  him  ?  I 
know  something  terrible  ha§  happened,  and  I  can't 
listen  to  it.  Do  come  quick !  " 

For  the  past  two  or  three  weeks,  Grandma 
Atherton  had  not  been  quite  well,  and  this  was 
doubtless  the  cause  of  the  unreasoning  alarm 
which  had  broken  down  her  usual  calmness. 


150  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

Without  stopping  to  convince  her  that,  if  anything 
very  serious  had  occurred,  the  man  would  have 
brought  home,  not  Danforth's  boots,  but  Dan  forth 
himself,  Margaret  hurried  out  to  the  porch.  With 
the  volubility  of  his  race,  the  man  hailed  her,  the 
moment  she  appeared. 

"  Do  these  boots  belong  to  the  b'y  as  lives  here, 
Miss?"  he  asked,  waving  his  burden  in  explana- 
tion of  his  words.  "  'Cause,  if  they  does,  I'm  to 
say  that  the  dog's  took  sick,  in  the  road  by  the 
bridge,  and  he  wants  the  man  to  come  and  help 
get  him  home." 

"  Is  the  dog  worse  ?  "  inquired  Margaret  anx- 
iously. 

"  'Deed  an'  he  is ;  he's  most  dead,"  was  the  en- 
couraging answer.  "  The  boss  and  me  found  'em 
together  by  the  side  of  the  road,  the  dog  just 
coming  out  of  a  fit,  and  the  b'y's  arrm  round  his 
neck,  and  him  cryin'  like  a  girl.  He's  got  sand 
in  him,  though,"  the  man  added  admiringly.  "  We 
told  him  'twasn't  any^use,  and  he  might  as  well 
let  the  dog  lie  there  and  die ;  but  he  stuck  to  it 
he'd  stay,  so  the  boss  told  me  to  come  up  here  and 
leave  word  about  it." 

Margaret  heard  no  more,  for  she  hurried  away 
to  the  barn  in  search  of  the  coachman,  whom  she 


LADDIE   STUDIES   THEOLOGY.  151 

sent  to  the  rescue,  with  a  wheelbarrow  to  serve 
as  an  ambulance.  Then  she  went  back  to  the 
house  to  reassure  Grandma  Atherton,  and  to 
wander  restlessly  from  window  to  window,  watch- 
ing to  see  Laddie  brought  home  to  her,  still  and 
lifeless.  They  came  in  sight  at  last,  Danforth 
leading  the  way,  followed  by  the  man  trundling 
the  wheelbarrow ;  and  as  she  beheld  them,  Mar- 
garet felt  tempted  to  rub  her  eyes,  to  make  sure 
that  she  saw  clearly.  Bolt  upright  in  his  novel 
chariot  sat  Laddie,  smiling  broadly  and  evidently 
enjoying  his  ride  to  the  utmost,  while  the  sand  in 
his  full  ruff  and  the  tangled  hair  on  his  back  were 
all  the  traces  left  that  he  had  just  been  passing 
through  the  crisis  of  his  illness,  and  was  now  on 
the  way  to  recovery.  The  dog  himself  was  in  a 
much  better  condition  than  poor  Danforth,  who 
came  dragging  himself  wearily  up  the  hill,  looking 
tired  and  dejected.  As  soon  as  she  could  free  her- 
self from  Laddie's  exuberant  caresses,  Margaret 
went  forward  and  took  the  boy's  hand  in  hers. 

"  They  told  me  he  was  going  to  die,"  he  said 
simply;  "but  I  wasn't  going  to  leave  him  till  you 
came." 

Later,  in  the  midst  of  the  recital  of  his  adven- 
tures, Danforth  broke  off  abruptly,  saying,  — 


152  MAJBGAKET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

"But  wasn't  it  funny  about  the  man,  Miss 
Davis?" 

"  What  man  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  The  one  that  sent  the  Irishman  up  here.  I 
believe  he  thought  I'd  stolen  the  dog.'  You  see, 
he  came  along  when  I  was  sitting  on  the  grass 
beside  the  road,  and  he  asked  what  was  the  matter. 
I  told  him,  and  he  bent  down  to  look  at  Laddie ; 
then,  all  at  once,  he  turned  and  stared  hard  at  me. 
I  didn't  know  what  to  make  of  it  at  first,  till  he 
began  feeling  around  in  Laddie's  ruff  for  a  collar. 
Then  he  asked  if  the  dog  belonged  to  me,  and 
I  said  yes,  —  at  least  that  he  lived  at  our  house.  I 
didn't  mean  to  lie  about  it ;  but  he  acted  so  queer 
that  I  didn't  know  what  to  say.  He  looked  him 
all  over  again,  and  I  heard  him  mumbling  some- 
thing to  himself  about  having  been  sure  'twas  the 
same  dog." 

Margaret  rose  abruptly  and  walked  to  the  win- 
dow, where  she  stood  looking  out,  while  the  boy 
went  on,  — 

"  He  told  me  that  he  thought  the  worst  was 
over,  and  Laddie  might  be  better  again  soon,  and 
he  sent  his  man  up  here  for  me.  He  was  as  kind 
as  he  could  be,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  his  acting  so 
funny  about  my  having  the  dog.  He  said  he  was 


LADDIE   STUDIES   THEOLOGY.  153 

at  church  last  Sunday,  and  he  asked  if  this  wasn't 
the  same  collie  that  stole  the  minister's  sermon," 
added  Danforth,  with  an  irrepressible  giggle. 

"  What  sort  of  a  looking  man  was  he  ?  "  asked 
Margaret  slowly,  without  turning  her  face  from 
the  window. 

"  A  good-looking  one  ;  not  handsome  a  bit,  but 
sort  of  splendid,  somehow,"  answered  Danforth 
promptly.  "  He  was  a  gentleman  and  not  so  very 
old,  with  dark  hair  and  a  little  brown  mustache. 
I  remember  noticing  a  little  red  and  white  button 
in  his  coat,  when  his  overcoat  slipped  sideways 
once.  'Twasn't  anybody  I  ever  saw  before,  and  I 
know  almost  everybody  here." 

"  I  don't  see  what  business  'twas  of  his,  whose 
dog  Laddie  is,"  said  Jack  resentfully.  "  Good  for 
you,  Dan,  for  not  letting  on  that  he  wasn't  yours  ! 
You'd  better  look  out  for  Laddie,  Miss  Davis,  for 
a  while.  Most  likely  the  man's  a  sneak-thief, 
dressed  up  as  a  gentleman." 

But  Margaret  made  no  reply.  She  had  silently 
left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

IN   THE  FIRELIGHT. 

To  enter  the  drawing-room  at  the  Atherton 
house  was  to  feel  that  one  had  suddenly  stepped 
out  of  this  over-decorated  end  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  and  into  an  age  when  be-ribboned  chairs 
and  meaningless  ^bric-a-brac  were  alike  unknown. 
It  was  the  room  which  old  Captain  Atherton  had 
prepared  for  his  bride,  and  except  for  a  grand 
piano  at  one  end  of  the  long  room,  and  the  little 
tokens  of  every-day  use  which  lay  scattered  about 
on  chairs  and  tables,  the  place  was  left  just  as  it 
had  been  on  the  day  it  was  completed. 

Above  the  panelled  wainscoting,  the  walls  were 
covered  with  a  priceless  paper,  showing  a  Vene- 
tian landscape.  Here  a  gondola  floated  down  a 
wide  canal  before  a  row  of  marble  buildings ;  there 
the  Bridge  of  Sighs  spanned  the  stream,  and  there 
again  a  group  of  gorgeously-dressed  women  chatted 
idly  upon  the  steps  of  a  lofty  palace.  At  one  side 
of  the  fireplace,  some  blooming  maidens  and  their 

154 


IN  THE  FIRELIGHT.  155 

wasp-waisted  swains  were  having  a  picnic,  under 
the  trees  on  an  island ;  on  the  other,  a  vicious-look- 
ing goat  was  nipping  the  grass  by  the  roadside.  It 
was  evident  that  either  the  paper  had  been  made 
for  the  room,  or  the  room  had  been  designed  with 
reference  to  the  paper,  since  each  picture  fitted  its 
own  particular  space  between  door  and  window, 
while  the  whole  effect  of  the  fo'ur  walls  was  as 
complete  and  harmonious  as  any  modern  cyclo- 
rama.  Arranged  in  each  corner,  with  the  old-time 
love  of  symmetry,  was  a  marble  bust  of  rare  work- 
manship ;  and  scattered  about  the  room  was  an 
array  of  spindle-legged  chairs,  claw-footed  tables 
and  dainty  footstools,  enough  to  dazzle  the  eye 
and  satisfy  the  longings  of  the  most  rapacious  of 
collectors. 

Early  one  evening,  a  week  or  two  before  Christ- 
mas, Margaret  was  sitting  by  the  drawing-room 
fire.  Except  for  Laddie  who,  fully  recovered 
from  his  recent  illness,  was  snoring  on  the  floor 
at  her  feet,  she  was  quite  alone,  for  Grandpa  and 
Grandma  Atherton  were  in  the  library  with  their 
son,  and  the  children  were  up  in  the  Wilderness, 
busy  with  their  preparations  for  the  coming  Christ- 
mas. Margaret  was  feeling  a  little  tired,  that 
night.  The  lessons  had  gone  hard  in  the  morning, 


156  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

for  Bobbie  had  been  in  one  of  her  perverse  moods, 
and  would  neither  work  herself  nor  let  the  boys 
work,  until  her  tutor  had  spoken  to  her  more 
sharply  than  she  had  ever  done  before.  Now 
Margaret  was  wondering  whether  she  had  been 
too  severe,  and  half  reproaching  herself  for  her 
own  lack  of  patience ;  but  Bobbie's  pranks  and 
the  boys'  idleness  had  driven  her  nearly  distracted. 
Their  work  must  be  done,  and  done  before  one 
o'clock ;  and  what  else  could  she  do  ?  Still,  she 
regretted  her  reproof  almost  before  it  was  uttered. 
No  true  lover  of  children  ever  gives  them  even 
the  most  needed  rebuke,  without  suffering  from  it 
much  more  than  they  do. 

She  picked  up  her  book  again  to  go  on  with  her 
reading.  It  was  a  series  of  light  essays,  a  curious 
mingling  of  fun  and  earnest,  which  Gerald  had 
brought  home,  a  few  days  before ;  and  Margaret 
had  been  hastily  glancing  through  it,  that  evening. 
But  the  blue  flame  dancing  lazily  above  the  wood 
on  the  andirons,  proved  more  attractive  than  the 
book,  and  Margaret  dropped  the  little  volume  into 
her  lap,  and  fell  to  musing  again.  It  was  almost 
Christmas,  she  thought,  and  in  a  few  days  more 
she  would  see  the  dear  home  faces  again.  All  in 
all,  her  experiment  was  proving  a  success.  For 


IN  THE  FIRELIGHT.  157 

the  past  three  months  she  had  been  very  happy ; 
and  the  children,  in  spite  of  the  naughtiness  of  the 
morning,  were  children  quite  after  her  own  heart, 
simple,  natural  and,  best  of  all,  alive.  The  family, 
too,  was  a  most  delightful  one,  so  free  from  all  false 
ambition  and  social  sham,  but  with  an  atmosphere 
of  reality  and  genuineness  which  formed  a  refresh- 
ing change  from  the  social  struggles  of  too  many 
of  the  people  whom  she  met.  She  had  made  a 
few  pleasant  acquaintances  in  Riverton,  and  she 
almost  regretted  that  her  promised  winter  of  free- 
dom was  nearly  half  ended. 

Fate  had  been  kind  to  her,  very  kind,  if  only  it 
had  not  sent  Hugh  to  be  quite  so  near  her.  She 
had  heard  of  him  repeatedly,  of  his  efficient  work 
on  the  electric  road,  of  his  genial  manner  in  meet- 
ing new  friends.  She  rarely  heard  of  him  in 
society,  however,  and  she  wondered  a  little  at  that, 
when  he  used  to  be  so  gay,  and  so  fond  of  a 
variety  of  interests  to  keep  him  occupied  outside 
of  business  hours.  She  had  not  met  him  at  all ; 
but  that  was  scarcely  strange  since  she  lived  so  very 
quietly,  and  only  went  out  occasionally,  at  the  in- 
vitation of  some  of  the  Athertons'  intimate  friends. 
She  marvelled  at  herself,  that  she  never  wearied 
of  this  life  which  would  have  seemed  so  monot- 


158  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

onous  to  her,  only  a  year  ago.  Now  she  en- 
joyed it,  and  she  found  that  her  one  absorbing 
interest  lay  in  the  children  and  their  doings.  Was 
her  life  narrowing,  she  asked  herself. 

Then,  by  an  involuntary  change  of  thought,  she 
went  back  to  what  Grandma  Atherton  had  been 
telling  her,  that  morning,  about  Mr.  Huntington. 
She  regretted  now  her  amusement  at  his  shabby 
coats  and  his  various  makeshifts  to  keep  himself 
dressed  properly  for  his  calling ;  for  she  had  heard 
the  story  of  his  life,  the  old  familiar  story  of  the 
father  living  beyond  his  income,  and  dying  just 
as  the  son  was  completing  his  studies,  to  leave 
that  son  burdened  with  his  debts  and  with  the 
support  of  his  mother.  Little  by  little,  by  eking 
out  his  small  salary  with  tutoring  and  doing  hack 
work  on  an  insignificant  magazine,  the  debts  were 
being  paid,  and  his  mother  was  able  to  keep  her 
old  home.  No  wonder  that  the  son  looked  pale 
and  shabby ;  but,  after  all,  what  a  glorious  life  to 
live,  a  life  whose  only  luxury  lay  in  hard  work 
done  for  the  sake  of  conscience,  and  in  countless 
little  kindnesses  to  his  fellow-men  who  were  worse 
off  than  himself!  But  even  the  denial  and  the 
drudgery  brought  their  own  blessing,  Margaret 
thought  to  herself  as  she  remembered  the  man's 


IN   THE   FIRELIGHT.  159 

face  and  manner.  No  one  would  ever  have  called 
Mr.  Huntington  an  unhappy  man ;  and  his  life 
among  people  spent  in  doing  good,  in  extending 
the  cheery  word  and  the  helping  hand  to  all  whom 
he  met,  was  bringing  him  in  a  rich  harvest  of  love. 
The  very  children  in  the  streets  used  to  stop  him 
for  a  few  words;  and  Margaret  smiled  as  she 
remembered  how  she  had  seen  a  little  urchin,  one 
day,  stretching  up  to  offer  Mr.  Huntington  a  bite 
of  his  rosy-cheeked  apple,  and  how  pleasantly  the 
young  minister  had  bent  down  and  tasted  the 
fruit,  though  he  knew  that  he  was  in  the  middle 
of  a  crowded  street. 

"  I  used  to  think  that  I  should  like  to  marry," 
he  had  told  Grandma  Atherton,  with  unconscious 
pathos;  "but  now  I  know  that  it  is  impossible, 
at  least,  as  long  as  my  mother  lives." 

Was  it  so  with  everybody,  she  wondered.  Then 
she  roused  herself  with  a  little  impatient  shake,  and 
looked  at  her  watch.  Half  past  eight !  She  had 
been  dreaming  there  by  the  fire  for  an  hour.  How 
disgraceful  for  an  active,  energetic  young  woman, 
living  in  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century,  to  waste 
her  time  in  any  such  fashion !  She  rose,  and 
walked  restlessly  up  and  down  the  room ;  then, 
obeying  some  sudden  impulse,  she  sat  down  at  the 


160  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

piano  and  began  to  sing.  Three  minutes  later, 
Jack  appeared  on  the  threshold. 

"  I  say,"  he  remarked  so  suddenly  that  Margaret 
gave  a  little  start  of  surprise ;  "  why  didn't  you 
say  so  before  ?  " 

"Say  what?  "  she  answered,  as  she  dropped  her 
hands  from  the  keys  and  turned  to  face  him. 

"Say  you  could  sing,  of  course,"  responded 
Jack,  coming  forward  to  her  side. 

"I  can't,  much,"  she  said,  laughing  at  his 
aggrieved  tone.  "I've  taken  lessons  for  the  last 
two  or  three  years;  but  I  haven't  any  especial 
talent  for  it.  Besides,  I  thought  you  said  you 
hated  music." 

"So  I  do,  Bobbie's  everlasting  scales  and  that 
rubbish,"  he  answered  frankly.  "  Yours  isn't  like 
that.  Go  ahead  and  sing  some  more  ;  I  like  it." 

Margaret  sat  for  a  moment,  silently  running 
over  her  small  repertoire.  Her  teacher  had  been 
a  man  of  strictly  classical  tastes,  and  his  selections 
for  her  voice  were  scarcely  of  a  nature  to  interest 
a  boy  like  Jack.  At  last  she  drifted  into  a  little 
French  love  song,  to  which  her  young  auditor 
listened  in  silence. 

"  Don't  you  know  something  a  little  more 
cheerful  than  that  ?  "  he  demanded,  as  soon  as  the 


IN    THE   FIRELIGHT.  161 

last  note  had  died  away.  "That  gives  me  the 
blues,  it's  so  doleful." 

Margaret  laughed  outright.  Evidently  Jack 
had  not  a  sentimental  soul. 

"How  will  this  go?"  she  asked,  as  she  broke 
into  the  prelude  of  a  rollicking  German  student 
song  which  Hugh  had  taught  her. 

She  sang  the  song  through  to  the  last  of  its 
many  verses,  throwing  herself  into  it  with  an 
abandonment  which  made  her  quite  unconscious 
that  Uncle  Jerry  was  softly  opening  the  doors 
between  the  library  and  drawing-room.  At  the 
end,  she  was  saluted  with  a  double  burst  of 
applause,  for  Danforth  had  followed  his  brother 
into  the  room,  and  stood  leaning  against  the 
mantel. 

"That's  just  fine,"  said  Jack  approvingly. 
"  Give  us  another  like  it." 

"  I'm  afraid  that  I  don't  know  any  more,"  she 
said,  as  she  rose  and  came  forward  to  join  the  boys 
by  the  fire.  "  I  have  a  whole  book  of  those  student 
songs  at  home,  though,  and  if  you  wish,  I'll  bring 
it  up  here,  when  I  come  back  after  the  holidays." 

"  Why,  are  you  going  home  for  Christmas  ?  " 
And  Danforth  looked  up  at  her,  with  disappoint- 
ment written  on  every  line  of  his  face. 


1G2  MAEGAEET   DAVIS,   TUTOE. 

"  Didn't  you  know  it  ?  I  supposed  that  it  was 
all  understood,  long  ago,"  she  answered,  with  a 
keen  sense  of  pleasure  at  the  boy's  tone  of  regret. 

"  No ;  I  thought  of  course  you'd  be  here,"  he 
said.  "  'Twon't  be  half  so  much  fun  without  you ; 
and  we  had  our  plans  all  made  —  " 

"  Shut  up,  Dan  !  "  said  his  brother  so  warningly 
that  Danforth's  color  came,  and  he  relapsed  into 
silence  again. 

"  I  am*so  glad,  if  you  are  going  to  miss  me," 
said  Margaret.  "But  I  shall  leave  Laddie  to 
represent  me,  and  it  will  be  for  only  two  weeks ; 
that  isn't  very  long." 

"Well,  if  you're  through  singing,"  said  Jack 
restlessly,  "I'll  go  back  and  help  Bob  with  her 
pastry.  She  and  Pen  have  used  more  than  a 
barrel  of  mucilage,  this  Christmas,  and  now  Bob- 
bie has  taken  to  paste.  She  says  it's  easier  than 
'tis  to  sew  things ;  she'll  be  pasting  together  her 
clothes,  yet."  And  he  departed,  whistling  "  Danny 
Deever  "  at  the  top  of  his  lungs. 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment  after  he  had 
gone ;  then,  as  Margaret  dropped  into  a  chair 
and  looked  up  at  Dan  forth  who  was  still  leaning 
against  the  mantel,  with  his  foot  resting  on  one  of 
the  andirons,  she  said  interrogatively,  — 


IN   THE   FIRELIGHT.  163 

"Well,  Dan?" 

"  I  was  trying  to  count  up  how  long  'twas  since 
you  came  here,"  he  answered.  "  It  seems  kind  of 
long  and  kind  of  short,  you  know." 

"  No ;  I  don't  think  I  do  know  exactly,"  she 
replied,  laughing  at  his  explanatory  tone. 

"  Why,  it  doesn't  seem  but  a  few  days  since 
you  came,  and  yet  I  feel  as  if  you'd  always  lived 
here,  for  you  fit  in,  somehow.  Only  you  aren't  a 
bit  of  a  teacher." 

"  Thank  you,  Dan,"  she  responded  gravely. 

"  No ;  I  don't  mean  that."  And  Danforth  blushed 
at  his  own  stupidity.  "But  you  truly  aren't  like 
any  other  ;  they're  mostly  poky  and  cross.  Don't 
you  know  what  I  mean?"  he  added  despairingly. 
"  I  haven't  said  it  at  all  as  I  started  to ;  but  there 
is  a  difference.  You  aren't  schoolma'amish,  like 
the  others." 

"  Perhaps  because  I  never  was  a  schoolma'am 
before  this,"  suggested  Margaret  laughing.  "  I'm 
so  glad  if  I'm  not,  Dan,  for  it  proves  that  one  can 
teach  without  being  too  much  demoralized;  and 
I've  heard  ever  so  many  people  say  that  they 
could  always  tell  a  teacher  by  her  voice  and 
manner." 

"  You  mostly  can,  "  said  Danforth  reflectively  ; 


164  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"  only  you  aren't  like  the  usual  run  of  them.  It's 
fun  to  work  with  you,  somehow ;  you  make  it  so 
much  easier  than  Duffy  did." 

"You  certainly  are  getting  along  well,"  said 
Margaret  thoughtfully.  "At  this  rate  you  and 
Jack  will  easily  be  ready  for  college  a  year  from 
this  fall." 

"  And  then  you'll  go  away  ?  " 

For  her  only  answer,  Margaret  put  out  her 
hand,  and  drew  the  boy  down  into  a  low  chair 
by  her  side. 

"  You'll  spoil  me,  Dan,  and  make  me  unfit  to 
live  with,  if  you  talk  like  that,"  she  said,  after  a 
moment.  "  You  know  I  only  came  here  for  a 
year  anyway ;  and  besides,  when  you  are  in  col- 
lege, you'll  be  right  where  I  can  see  you  often." 

"  But  you'll  stay  till  we're  ready  to  enter  ?  " 
urged  Danforth  eagerly. 

"  I  can't  tell,"  she  answered  slowly.  "  For 
most  reasons  I'd  like  to  stay,  for  I  have  enjoyed 
my  being  here  ;  but  my  mother  may  want  me  at 
home  again.  Of  course  I'd  rather  finish  you  up 
myself,  instead  of  leaving  you  to  another  tutor  or 
to  Mr.  Dufferin." 

"I  won't  go  back  to  Duffy,  anyway."  And 
Danforth's  brow  wrinkled  into  a  sombre  frown, 


IN  THE  FIRELIGHT.  165 

at  the  thought  of  his  former  tyrant.  "I  never 
did  anything  under  him,  Miss  Davis.  Do  you 
know  what  he  told  Uncle  Jerry  about  me  ?  " 

"What  was  it?" 

"  He  said  I  was  very  dull,  and  that  my  worst 
fault  was  my  perfect  indifference.  I  couldn't 
do  anything  to  suit  him,  no  matter  what  'twas." 
And  Danforth's  scowl  grew  deeper,  as  he  crossed 
his  legs  and  began  to  pick  at  the  sole  of  his 
shoe. 

"  Stop  scowling  at  me,"  said  Margaret  playfully. 
"  How  can  you  expect  me  to  talk  to  you  if  you 
glower  like  that?  But  really,  Dan,"  she  went  on 
more  seriously;  "I  don't  think  Mr.  Dufferin  was 
quite  fair  in  what  he  said  to  you  and  about  you. 
He  didn't  understand  you,  and  I  think  he  fright- 
ened you  a  little  bit  more  than  he  meant  to  do.  I 
haven't  found  you  either  indifferent  or  dull,  Dan ; 
but  a  good  worker." 

Danforth's  face  brightened  under  her  praise ; 
then  it  grew  thoughtful,  as  she  went  on,  — 

"Dan,  my  boy,  may  I  tell  you  just  what  I  think 
about  you?  Remember,  I'm  not  the  tutor,  to- 
night, only  the  friend  you  said  I  might  be ;  and 
it's  because  I  care  for  you  that  I  want  to  talk  this 
over." 


166  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"  Go  on,  please."  And  Danforth  bent  forward 
to  stir  up  the  fire ;  then  he  drew  his  chair  a  little 
nearer  to  Margaret's  side. 

"  I  don't  know  just  how  to  begin,"  said  Marga- 
ret, as  she  looked  into  the  dark  blue  eyes  which 
met  hers  so  honestly.  "  You  see,  Dan,  you  are 
just  where  you've  proved  that  you  can  do  splendid 
work ;  and  I  want  you  to  keep  up  to  it,  when  it 
isn't  quite  so  easy.  You  have  a  good  mind,  and 
you  can  work  like  a  beaver  when  you  are  inter- 
ested ;  but,  under  Mr.  Dufferin,  if  you  weren't 
interested,  or  if  he  was  a  little  cross,  you  didn't 
tell  half  you  knew.  Isn't  it  so  ?  " 

"  He  did  use  to  rattle  me  a  good  deal,"  confessed 
Danforth  penitently. 

"  I  know  it ;  and,  as  soon  as  you  were  rattled, 
you  lost  your  head  and  didn't  feel  sure  that  you 
knew  anything,  and  that  made  you  shut  your 
mouth  tighter  than  ever,  and  frown  as  you  did  at 
me,  a  few  minutes  ago.  You  see  T  know  all  about 
it,  just  as  if  I'd  been  there."  And  Margaret 
smiled  mischievously. 

"  I  suppose  I  did,  but  I  don't  get  rattled  with 
you  ;  do  I  ?  "  Danforth  asked  meekly. 

"  No ;  that's  just  it,  and  yet  I  don't  give  you 
half  so  easy  lessons  as  Mr.  Dufferin  did.  The  first 


IN  THE  FIRELIGHT.  167 

week  or  two,  you  weren't  quite  so  ready  to  tell 
what  you  knew;  but,  since  then,  you've  done 
splendidly.  And  now  I  want  to  know  what's 
going  to  happen  when  you  go  into  college.  There 
you'll  be  under  all  sorts  of  men,  some  of  them 
pleasant  and  kindly,  some  very  stern ;  but  you 
must  do  good  work  under  each  one  of  them." 

"  Why  can't  I  keep  on  with  you  ? "  demanded 
Danforth.  "  I'd  learn  as  much,  and  more  too." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  she  answered  ;  "and 
besides,  you  need  just  the  training  that  college 
life  will  give  you.  'Twill  be  good  for  you  to  be 
thrown  among  other  boys ;  it's  like  shaking  glass 
beads  together,  to  break  off  the  rough  edges. 
You'll  get  some  hard  knocks,  Dan,"  she  went  on 
half-pityingly,  as  she  pictured  the  sensitive  boy 
launched  into  the  rough-and-tumble  existence  in 
which  the  average  freshman  delights ;  "  but  it 
won't  hurt  you  in  the  end,  if  you  make  up  your 
mind  to  hold  your  own  and  come  out  of  it  all,  a 
man.  No  matter  what  the  boys  say,  no  matter 
whether  your  professors  like  you  or  not,  I  know 
I  am  right  when  I  say  that  you  can  go  through 
college  with  a  good  standing,  and  be  graduated 
with  honor." 

"But  who  wants  to  be  a  dig,  all  his   days?" 


168  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

inquired  Jack,  who  had  come  into  the  room  just 
in  time  for  her  last  words. 

"  You  and  Dan  both,  I  hope,"  answered  Marga- 
ret promptly.  "  I've  no  patience  with  a  boy  who 
hasn't  the  dig  in  him.  'Tisn't  the  bright  fellows, 
it's  the  ones  who  can  work  that  make  the  men  of 
whom  our  colleges  are  proud  to  say,  '  He  was  one 
of  our  boys.'  But  because  a  boy  digs,  he  needn't 
give  up  all  the  fun  of  college  life ;  that  would 
make  him  as  uninteresting  as  the  valley  of  dry 
bones.  Some  of  the  finest  lessons  of  college  are 
learned  outside  of  the  class-room,  as  all  of  us  who 
have  been  there  know." 

"  What's  the  use  of  college,  anyhow  ?  "  asked 
Dan  forth. 

"What  are  you  going  to  college  for?"  she 
responded,  meeting  question  with  question. 

"  Fun,"  answered  Jack  laconically ;  "  and  be- 
cause the  other  fellows  all  do." 

"  Such  a  noble  ambition ! "  And  Margaret 
laughed,  in  spite  of  herself.  Then  she  returned 
again  to  her  serious  manner,  as  she  went  on, 
"  There's  a  great  deal  of  fun  in  college  life,  Jack ; 
some  of  it  is  funny  and  some  of  it  isn't,  as  we 
know  who  live  close  to  a  great  university.  I 
should  hate  to  have  any  boy  friend  of  mine  go 


IN   THE   FIRELIGHT.  169 

through  college  and  miss  all  the  fun ;  but  before 
he  goes,  he  ought  to  make  up  his  mind,  once  for 
all,  where  his  fun  should  lie.  Because  a  young 
man  is  a  student,  in  these  days,  he  seems  to  feel 
privileged  to  be  a  young  ruffian,  and  to  get  him- 
self into  all  sorts  of  scrapes  which  he  would  scorn, 
if  he  were  living  at  home.  Have  all  the  fun  you 
want  and  can  get,  while  you  are  in  college,  pro- 
vided you  steadfastly  turn  your  backs  on  every- 
thing that  is  dishonorable  and  low  and,  above  all 
else,  everything  that  is  unclean  in  thought  or  act. 
You'll  go  into  college  as  boys,  to  come  out  as  men. 
Beyond  and  above  your  class-work  comes  the  ques- 
tion of  your  real  lives ;  and  I  want  my  boys  to 
make  such  a  record  that  the  best  and  truest 
women  may  always  be  glad  to  welcome  them  into 
their  homes." 

Danforth's  face  had  grown  very  thoughtful 
while  she  was  speaking,  and  even  Jack .  looked 
serious  for  a  moment.  Then  he  gave  Margaret  a 
whimsical,  sidelong  glance,  as  he  inquired 
meekly,  — 

"  Digs  and  prigs,  Miss  Davis ;  what  else  ?  " 
"  I  like  prigs  almost  as  well  as  you  do,  Jack," 
she  answered.     "  If  there's  anything  despicable  in 
this  world,  it's  a  saint  who  is  too  inefficient  to  be 


170  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

anything  else.  I'd  rather  have  a  good  vigorous 
sinner  like  you,  for  there's  more  chance  of  making 
something  of  him,  in  time.  A  prig  isn't  a  boy 
who  prefers  honorable  fun  to  low  jokes ;  but  one 
that's  too  indolent  and  finicky  to  appreciate  any 
fun  at  all.  But,  about  the  dig,  if  you're  going  in 
for  any  education  at  all,  you  want  to  do  it  well. 
You  boys  can  both  take  a  good  stand,  if  you'll 
work  for  it ;  and  if  you  work,  heart  and  soul, 
while  you  do  work,  you'll  have  ever  so  much  time 
left  for  fun,  outside.  And  it's  in  the  outside  life, 
as  I  say,  that  you  may  get  the  greatest  good  of  all ; 
for  the  square  pegs  of  boys  who  go  into  college, 
have  to  get  their  corners  rubbed  off  until  they  can 
fit  into  the  round  holes  of  the  life  beyond.  The 
most  glorious  lesson  of  all,  better  than  Greek  or 
Latin,  better  than  '  all  the  'ologies  of  the  colleges,' 
is  to  know  and  trust  our  brother  men,  and  be  kind 
in  our  judgments  of  them  all." 

She  had  spoken  more  earnestly  than  she  real- 
ized, and  as  she  paused,  a  hush  fell  on  the  room. 
Both  the  boys  were  staring  fixedly  at  the  fire,  and, 
for  some  moments,  neither  of  them  moved.  Jack 
was  the  first  to  recover  himself. 

"  Yes,  'um,"  he  said  pensively.  "  That's  a  beau- 
tiful sermon,  'most  as  good  as  Mr.  Huntington's 


IN  THE   FIRELIGHT.  171 

that  Laddie  stole ;  but  isn't  it  almost  time  for  the 
benediction  ?  " 

"  Impertinent  boy !  "  And  Margaret  pulled  the 
brown  ear  nearest  her.  "No,"  she  added  suddenly ; 
"  it  isn't  time  yet.  I've  something  more  to  say." 

"  Let  her  go,  then,  and  get  it  over,"  said  Jack, 
clasping  his  hands  in  mock  resignation. 

"  This  last  was  a  general  sermon,  and  fits  every 
day,"  said  Margaret  laughing.  "  Now  I  am  going 
to  add  another,  just  for  to-day,  and  say  that  you 
were  a  pair  of  lazy  boys  this  morning.  You  knew 
it  then,  and  I  have  a  general  idea  that  you  are 
ashamed  of  it  now." 

"I  'spects  we  are,"  responded  Jack  cheerfully. 
"  I  didn't  mean  to  be  a  beast,  now  honestly,  Miss 
Davis  ;  but  I  didn't  feel  like  working,  one  little  bit." 

"Evidently  not,"  said  Margaret;  "but  every 
day  you  are  lazy  now  is  doing  just  as  much  harm 
to  the  fine  work  you  are  going  to  do  later.  And 
when  there  comes  a  day  like  this,  it  makes  me  feel 
as  if  all  my  time  were  thrown  away,  and  somebody 
else  could  do  better  by  my  boys  than  I  am  doing." 

"  Not  much,"  returned  Jack  heartily,  as  he  rose 
and  stood  on  the  hearth-rug,  facing  her.  "  Nobody 
else  could  be  half  so  jolly,  and  I  only  wish  you 
were  related  to  us,  somehow,  so  you  would  have 
to  stay  here  always." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

DANFORTH. 

"  SAY,  Dan,  what  are  yon  doing  ?  "  asked  Jack, 
coming  suddenly  into  the  room  which  the  two 
boys  occupied. 

It  was  the  day  before  Christmas,  and  Grandma 
Atherton  was  busy  with  the  preparations  for  the 
next  day's  festivities,  while  Bobbie  and  Pen  were 
decorating  the  drawing-room,  hall  and  dining-room 
with  sprays  of  holly  and  mistletoe.  Outside  the 
house,  the  rain  was  pouring  heavily  down  from 
the  dull,  leaden  sky,  and  the  bare  trees  tossed  and 
writhed  in  the  wind.  Danforth  cared  little  for  the 
weather,  however,  for  he  was  all-absorbed  in  a  new 
book  ;  and  Jack  had  come  in,  to  find  him  lying  face 
down  across  his  bed,  with  his  open  book  as  near 
to  the  window  as  possible,  his  chin  in  his  hands 
and  his  heels  in  the  air,  a  picture  of  perfect  content- 
ment. At  Jack's  question,  he  only  gave  a  grunt 
of  recognition,  and  then  returned  to  his  reading. 

"  I  say,  wake  up  there ! "  remonstrated  Jack. 
172 


DANFO11TH.  173 

"  What  business  have  you  to  be  up  here,  loafing 
and  spoiling  your  eyes  in  that  dark  corner,  when 
we've  been  wanting  you  more  than  you  were 
worth?" 

"  What  did  you  want  ?  "  inquired  Dan  forth,  re- 
luctantly shutting  his  book  and  rolling  over  to  face 
Jack,  with  a  prodigious  yawn. 

"Grandma  wanted  some  more  lemons,  and  I 
had  to  wade  over  to  Riverton  for  them.  If  you'd 
only  been  round,  you  could  have  gone,  instead," 
responded  Jack,  with  calm  audacity. 

"  Needn't  think  I'm  going  to  do  all  the  errands," 
objected  Danforth.  "  I'd  been  out,  more  than  half 
the  morning,  and  'twas  your  turn." 

"  Turns  don't  count,  this  weather,"  said  Jack, 
going  to  the  window  and  tapping  thoughtfully  on 
the  pane,  as  he  looked  out  at  the  wind-swept  land- 
scape. "  Tell  you  what,  Dan,  it's  a  juicy  day. 
I  was  'most  blown  off  the  bridge,  coining  home." 

"'Tis  pretty  bad,  worse  than  I  thought,"  said 
Danforth,  as  he  tumbled  himself  off  the  bed,  and 
crossed  the  room  to  his  brother's  side.  "  Say,"  he 
added  suddenly ;  "  don't  you  wish  Miss  Davis 
would  come  back  ?  " 

"  Come  back  ?  Why,  she  hasn't  been  gone  but 
two  days,"  said  Jack. 


174  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

"  Can't  help  it ;  it  seems  a  week,  and  there  isn't 
anything  to  do,  when  she's  out  of  the  way." 

"  She  is  good  fun,  that's  a  fact,"  admitted  Jack ; 
"  and  she  never  acts  too  busy  to  do  what  we  want. 
I  don't  see  how  we  ever  managed  to  get  on,  with- 
out having  her  round.  Think  of  the  times  we 
used  to  have  with  Duffy  !  " 

"  You  came  out  of  that  O.  K.  I  was  the  one 
that  had  the  worst  of  it,"  said  Danforth.  "It's 
over  now;  there's  one  comfort.  But  I  wish 'twere 

time  for  Miss  Davis  to  come  back  again." 

• 

"  She'll  be  here,  next  week,"  remarked  Jack 
consolingly.  "  Besides,  if  you  go  to  New  York, 
that'll  take  some  of  the  time." 

"Are  we  going?"  Danforth  looked  up  in 
surprise. 

"  You  are,  I'm  not  in  it ;  no  such  luck  for  me," 
said  Jack  enviously.  "  But  I  supposed  you  knew 
it.  I  heard  Uncle  Jerry  telling  grandma  that  he 
was  going  to  take  you  down,  next  week,  to  see 
Dr.  Heinrich  again.  Maybe,  if  you  tease  hard 
enough,  you  can  get  him  to  plan  to  come  back  on 
the  train  with  Miss  Davis." 

"  Great  head ! "  said  Danforth  approvingly. 
"  That's  a  good  scheme,  Jack,  and  I'll  see  what  I 
can  do.  I  hate  going  down,  though,  and  I  wish 
I  could  get  out  of  it." 


DANFOUTH.  175 

"What  for?"  And  Jack  stared  at  his  brother 
in  surprise.  "  I  should  think  you'd  have  immense 
fun.  I  wish  Uncle  Jerry  would  take  me,  instead. 
But  let's  go  down  now,  and  help  Bobbie  and  Pen. 
They  sent  me  up  to  call  you,  and  I  forgot  it." 

"What's  the  use?"  inquired  Danforth  indo- 
lently. "  Girls  are  bores,  anyhow.  If  we  stay  up 
here,  we  can  have  a  little  peace ;  but  if  we  go 
down  there,  they'll  keep  us  running  all  over  the 
house  for  them,  and  I  get  so  sick  of  their 
gabble." 

"  Pen  doesn't  get  sick  of  you,  though,"  said  Jack, 
laughing.  "  When  you're  round,  she  doesn't  have 
half  an  eye  for  anybody  else.  It's  '  Jack  this '  and 
'  Jack  that ' ;  but  she  doesn't  lose  sight  of  you,  the 
whole  blessed  time." 

"  Honestly  ?  "  And  Danforth  looked  up  incred- 
ulously. "I  never  noticed  it.  I  didn't  suppose 
she  liked  me  overmuch,  since  that  time  I  shut  her 
white  kitten's  tail  in  the  door  crack.  She  gave 
me  fits  then ;  but  really  I  wasn't  to  blame,  for  I 
didn't  see  the  little  beast  at  all.  How  Pen  did 
rage,  though !  I've  never  dared  go  near  the  house 
since." 

"  You  watch  her  and  see,"  counselled  Jack.  "  I 
don't  see  how  you  haven't  noticed  it  before." 


176  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

"All  right,  I  will;  but  sh'e'd  better  let  me 
alone,  if  she  knows  what's  good  for  herself,"  said 
Danforth  pugnaciously.  "  I  don't  want  any  more 
girls  round  in  the  way ;  Bob  is  all  I  can  manage, 
and  she  generally  manages  me." 

In  the  meantime,  down-stairs,  Bobbie  and  Pen 
were  chattering  busily  over  their  bunches  of  red 
and  white  berries. 

"  I  think  your  grandma  is  just  lovely,  to  give  us 
a  Christmas  party,"  Pen  was  saying. 

"Isn't  she?  And  I've  the  sweetest  gown  to 
wear.  It  just  came  home  to-day." 

"  What  is  it?  "  And  Penelope  suspended  oper- 
ations while  she  looked  enviously  up  at  Bobbie, 
who  was  standing  on  a  tall  step-ladder,  to  hang  a 
branch  of  mistletoe  from  the  old-fashioned  chan- 
delier. 

"  It's  light  pink,  with  great  big  puffed  sleeves 
and  a  perfectly  e-normous  sash.  Miss  Davis 
helped  me  to  plan  it ;  it's  such  a  care  to  get  a 
new  gown."  And  Bobbie  sighed  in  what  she 
considered  a  very  womanly  fashion.  "  Jack  says 
it's  fine,"  she  continued,  after  a  pause  ;  "  but  Dan 
makes  fun  of  it.  He  says  I  look  like  a  balloon  in 
it;  but  that's  just  because  he  don't  like  pink.  Blue 
is  his  color." 


DANFORTH.  177 

"  Is  it?  I'm  so  glad,  for  my  gown  is  blue."  And 
Penelope  beamed  at  the  thought. 

"You  needn't  be  too  set-up,"  returned  Bobbie 
crushingly.  "  Yours  is  pale  blue,  and  he  wants 
it  dark,  Yale  blue,  you  know,  the  color  Miss  Davis 
wears  so  much.  Besides,  he  doesn't  like  girls, 
anyway.  Jack  is  a  great  deal  more  fun." 

"He's  more  waked-up,"  assented  Pen  doubt- 
fully; but  Bobbie  shifted  her  ground,  with  char- 
acteristic suddenness. 

"  But  Dan  is  the  easiest  to  get  along  with,  for 
he  doesn't  get  cross  and  tease,  as  much  as  Jack 
does.  Don't  you  ever  tell  I  said  it,  Pen  Stoddard ; 
but  really  I  do  have  the  dearest  pair  of  brothers 
in  the  world,"  she  added,  in  a  quick  outburst  of 
affection,  for  the  approaching  festival  had  made 
her  feel  unusualty  at  peace  with  the  world. 
"  Jack's  the  brightest ;  but  Dan  is  so  sort  of  lovely 
that  he  makes  up  for  it.  Did  I  ever  tell  you  about 
the  day  I  left  the  cage  door  open,  and  let  all  the 
white  mice  get  away?  " 

"  No ;  when  was  that  ?  "  asked  Penelope,  while 
she  tried  to  decide  whether  holly  or  mistletoe 
looked  better  about  the  marble  cupid. 

"  It  was  one  day  last  fall,  and  I  told  the  boys 
I'd  feed  the  mice,  for  they  were  both  busy.  Miss 


178  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

Davis  called  me,  just  then,  and  I  forgot  to  shut 
the  door,  and  went  off  and  left  them.  I  felt  dread- 
fully about  it,  for  the  boys  thought  everything  of 
their  mice.  Jack  found  it  out  first,  and  he  was 
very  mad ;  he  did  scold  me  awfully." 

Bobbie  had  dropped  her  berries,  and  sat  down 
on  the  top  step  of  the  ladder  to  tell  her  story, 
while  her  bright  little  face  grew  sober  and  then 
very  gentle  in  her  earnestness,  as  she  went  on,  — 

"  Well,  I  was  up  in  my  room,  crying  just  as  hard 
as  I  could  cry,  when  I  heard  somebody  knock.  I 
wouldn't  answer  one  single  word,  for  Jack  had 
made  me  pretty  mad,  my  own  self,  and  I  had 
cried  till  my  eyes  were  as  red  as  a  pair  of  toma- 
toes, so  I  just  kept  still.  Then  the  knob  turned, 
and  the  door  opened  softly ;  but  I  wouldn't  look 
up  nor  speak  till,  all  at  once,  I  heard  Dan  say 
'  Bobbie.'  I  thought  he'd  come  to  scold,  too ;  but 
he  didn't,  a  bit.  He  sat  down  and  pulled  me  over 
on  to  his  knee,  and  kissed  me  and  stroked  my  hair. 
His  eyes  looked  blue  as  could  be,  and  he  laughed 
a  little  ;  but  he  didn't  say  anything  at  all,  only 
just  'Poor  little  Bob!  Don't  mind  so  much.' 
That's  the  kind  of  a  brother  that  Dan  is."  And 
Bobbie  nodded  emphatically,  as  she  sat  looking 
down  at  Pen. 


DANFORTH.  179 

"  I  think  he's  lovely,  truly ;  only  I'm  kind  of 
afraid  of  him,"  said  Penelope,  who  had  listened 
intently  to  Bobbie's  story.  "  He's  always  so  quiet 
and  so  proper  that  I  expect  to  shock  him." 

"Dan  proper?"  And  Bobbie  laughed  at  the 
idea.  "And  you  needn't  think,  because  he's 
quiet,  that  he  hasn't  a  will  of  his  own,  Pen. 
When  Danforth  Spaulding  really  makes  up  his 
mind  to  do  anything,  you  might  as  well  try  to  — 
to  climb  out  of  the  big  pot-hole  down  by  the 
river,  as  to  stop  him.  But  here  they  come  now. 
We  ought  to  have  been  at  work,  instead  of  sitting 
here  talking,  all  this  time,  for  it's  getting  dark 
already.  Don't  you  ever  tell  what  I've  been 
saying."  And  scrambling  to  her  feet,  Bobbie 
caught  up  her  berries  and  resumed  her  work, 
just  as  Jack  came  into  the  room. 

The  next  evening  found  the  old  house  brightly 
lighted,  and  gay  with  music  and  the  voices  of 
young  people ;  for  Grandma  Atherton  had  taken 
advantage  of  the  Christmas  festival,  to  give 
a  little  party  for  her  grandchildren  and  their 
friends. 

"  If  only  Miss  Davis  were  here,  'twould  all  bu 
fine,"  Jack  had  said  for  the  third  time,  while  he 
was  restlessly  wandering  about  the  rooms,  waiting 


180  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

for  the  guests  to  arrive.  "  It's  good  weather,  and 
grandma  has  a  jolly  spread ;  but  somehow  we  need 
her  to  set  us  all  going." 

"Just  wait  an  hour,"  said  Bobbie,  waltzing 
down  the  hall  in  her  excitement.  "When  they 
begin  to  come,  you  won't  want  Miss  Davis  or  any- 
body else,  except  just  us.  Now  really,  Jacky," 
and  she  paused,  with  her  head  on  one  side  and  her 
face  turned  coaxingly  up  to  her  brother;  "how  do 
you  like  my  gown?  Did  you  ever  see  one  much 
prettier?" 

"N-no;  I  don't  know  as  I  did,"  admitted  Jack, 
smiling  down  at  his  sister  with  manifest  pride. 
"  There's  a  good  deal  of  flummery  to  it,  but  it 
suits  you,  somehow.  Where's  Dan?" 

"He's  still  prinking.  Did  yau  ever  see  such  an 
old  Betty?"  asked  Bobbie,  laughing.  "He  just 
called  me  to  come  in  and  tell  him  what  tie  to 
wear.  He  had  about  a  dozen  spread  out  in  a  row, 
and  I  believe  he'd  been  trying  them  all  on.  He  is 
the  funniest  boy  I  ever  did  see.  Oh  dear,  I  do 
wish  somebody  would  come;  I  can't  wait  much 
longer,  before  I  see  the  tree.  I  know  one  thing 
you're  going  to  have,  though,"  she  added  tri- 
umphantly. 

"  What  is  it,  a  printing  press  ? "  asked  Jack 
eagerly. 


DANFOKTH.  181 

"That's  telling.  It's  something  you'll  like. 
But  there  goes  the  bell,  at  last;  I  do  hope  it's 
Pen."  And  Bobbie  darted  to  the  door  to  greet 
her  friend  and  drag  her  away  upstairs,  for  a  long, 
whispered  conference. 

It  was  a  most  successful  evening,  and  every- 
body said  so.  After  the  first  little  stiffness  had 
worn  away,  and  the  latest  comers  had  made  their 
appearance,  the  good  time  began.  Mrs.  Stoddard 
had  come  with  her  daughter,  to  help  Grandma 
Atherton  in  entertaining  the  young  people;  and 
she  entered  into  the  frolic  as  heartily  as  Penelope 
herself,  now  starting  a  new  game  and  bringing 
them  all  into  it,  now  sitting  down  at  the  piano  to 
play  a  simple  quadrille  or  a  waltz,  while  the  chil- 
dren danced.  Bobbie,  with  her  eyes  shining  like 
stars  and  her  cheeks  as  pink  as  her  gown,  was  in 
her  element,  and  flew  about  the  room,  infecting 
them  all  with  her  spirits.  Even  Danforth,  after 
his  sister  had  routed  him  out  of  various  obscure 
corners,  rose  to  meet  the  emergency,  and  played 
the  host  with  a  quiet  grace  which  won  as  much 
enthusiasm  from  the  girls,  as  did  Jack's  more  rol- 
licking fun;  and  Bobbie  could  not  keep  from  giv- 
ing him  a  nod  of  approbation,  as  she  whispered  to 
Jack,  in  the  midst  of  ladies'  chain,  — 


182  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"Do  see  Dan!     Isn't  he  too  dear,  to-night?" 

And  Jack  answered,  as  he  glanced  across  the 
room  to  where  his  brother  stood  talking  with 
Penelope,  in  the  pause  of  the  figure,  — 

"Dan's  always  a  trump,  when  he  forgets  and 
lets  himself  go;  but  seems  to  me  Pen  looks 
unusually  fine.  How  she  does  smile  on  Dan, 
though ! " 

The  dance  ended  and  that  duty  done,  Danforth 
abruptly  turned  his  back  upon  the  pretty  face  and 
dainty  gown  of  his  young  partner,  and  strolled 
away  into  the  library,  leaving  Penelope  standing 
alone  in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  She  looked  after 
him  with  an  ill-concealed  disappointment,  for  at 
heart  she  greatly  admired  Bobbie's  quiet  brother, 
and  was  secretly  much  elated  by  his  having  asked 
her  to  dance.  She  had  been  doing  her  best  to  talk 
to  him  and  to  make  him  talk,  so  it  was  doubly 
mortifying  to  be  left  without  a  word.  Fortunately 
she  could  not  follow  Danforth  into  the  library, 
and  hear  him  say,  as  he  threw  himself  down  into  a 
chair  beside  Uncle  Jerry,  — 

"  Wish  I  could  stay  here  with  you !  It's  an 
awful  racket  in  there,  with  so  many  girls.  They've 
all  put  on  their  best  clothes;  and  they  don't  do 
anything  but  shake  out  their  ruffles,  or  whatever 


DANFORTH.  183 

you  call  'em,  and  look  cornerwise  into  the  glass, 
whenever  they  get  in  range." 

Uncle  Jerry  laughed,  as  he  looked  up  from  his 
paper. 

"Which  of  you  took  longer  to  dress,  to-night, 
Dan,"  he  asked;  "you  or  Bobbie?  " 

Danforth  was  spared  the  necessity  of  making 
any  reply,  for  Jack  appeared  on  the  threshold,  at 
that  moment,  and  descended  upon  his  brother  like 
an  accusing  spirit. 

"  I  say,  Dan  Spaulding,  what'll  you  take  for 
your  manners?  Ask  a  girl  to  dance,  and  then 
walk  off  and  leave  her,  the  minute  you're  through ! 
You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself." 

"Great  Scott!  I  forgot  her."  And  Danforth 
looked  up  with  a  startled  light  in  his  blue  eyes. 
"I  didn't  mean  to,  anyhow;  but  I  was  so  glad 
that  rigmarole  was  over,  that  I  bolted  as  soon  as  I 
could.  No  matter;  it's  nobody  but  Pen,  and  she 
ought  to  know  I  don't  like  girls  and  only  asked 
her  because  I  had  to." 

"  You're  a  great  lad !  "  And  Jack  surveyed  his 
brother  with  unmixed  scorn.  "Pen  never'd  speak 
to  you  again,  if  she  did  what  you  deserve." 

"I  wish  she  wouldn't,"  murmured  the  culprit 
feebly. 


184  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"You  don't  wish  any  such  thing,"  returned 
Jack.  "  Now  you  just  come  back  into  the  parlor 
and  behave  yourself.  I'm  going  to  take  Pen  out 
to  supper ;  but  you  must  ask  her  to  dance  again, 
or  else  philopene  with  her,  or  something,  to  show 
you  want  to  make  up." 

"  Just  my  luck ! "  sighed  Danforth,  as  his  brother 
vanished  once  more.  "  Bob  said  I  must  dance  with 
Pen,  and  I  did  it ;  but  I  supposed  that  was  all  that 
was  necessary.  Bother  the  girls,  anyway ! "  And 
he  disconsolately  followed  Jack,  while  Uncle  Jerry 
hid  his  amusement  in  his  paper. 

"  Dan  will  never  be  a  society  man,"  he  thought 
to  himself.  "  Perhaps  it  is  just  as  well,  for  Jack 
has  enough  of  it  for  both  the  boys.  Still,  it  may 
come  in  time." 

Prophetic  Uncle  Jerry! 

Two  hours  later,  the  children  were  gathered  in 
the  drawing-room  for  one  last  dance.  The  simple 
supper  was  over,  and  the  tree  had  been  shown, 
then  admired,  then  pillaged.  Countless  pretty 
trifles  were  scattered  about  the  room,  for  each 
young  guest  had  been  generously  remembered ; 
while  the  more  substantial  gifts  of  the  Spauldings 
lay  on  the  library  table,  to  be  opened  when  the 
others  had  gone.  Uncle  Jerry,  in  the  dress  of 


DANFORTH.  185 

Santa  Glaus,  stood  in  the  doorway,  looking  on  at 
the  lively  picture ;  then,  answering  a  sudden  call 
from  his  mother,  he  crossed  the  hall  to  the  dining- 
room,  where  Grandma  Atherton  and  Mrs.  Stod- 
dard  were  packing  two  little  baskets  of  goodies 
and  gifts,  for  the  two  guests  who  had  been  unable 
to  come  to  the  party. 

Meanwhile,  the  young  people,  eager  to  have  the 
music  start  up,  and  excited  with  their  long  even- 
ing of  pleasure,  were  dancing  up  and  down  the 
great  room,  their  bright  faces  and  pretty  gowns 
making  a  brilliant  contrast  to  the  quaint,  old 
furnishings  of  the  place.  All  at  once,  Jack  whis- 
tled a  few  strains  of  a  waltz,  and  Bobbie,  seizing 
Penelope,  whirled  her  away  across  the  floor.  A 
moment  later,  there  came  a  crash,  followed  by  a 
cry  of  fear  which  quickly  changed  into  a  shriek  of 
pain.  The  two  girls,  heedless  of  where  they  were 
going,  had  collided  with  a  small  table  at  the  far- 
ther side  of  the  room,  upon  which  stood  a  large 
banquet-lamp  on  its  tall  pedestal.  It  swayed  to 
and  fro  for  an  instant,  but  not  long  enough  to  allow 
the  frightened  children  to  catch  it,  or  to  spring 
away ;  then  it  fell  on  its  side,  throwing  the  reservoir 
from  its  place  and  over  upon  Penelope.  The  next 
moment,  she  was  enveloped  in  a  blaze  of  the  burn- 
ing oil. 


186  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

What  happened  after  that,  Penelope  never 
knew.  She  had  a  vague  memory  that  the  room 
rang  with  cries  of  fear  and  calls  for  help  ;  that  her 
friends  were  running  wildly  about  her,  and  then 
that  some  one  pushed  her  roughly  to  the  floor,  and 
held  her  there  under  a  pile  of  heavy  clothing, 
while  she  writhed  with  pain  and  terror.  That 
was  all  she  could  remember,  and  that  came  back 
to  her  mind,  bit  by  bit,  when  she  waked  to  find 
herself  in  Bobbie's  bed.  Her  head  felt  tired  and 
confused,  and  she  was  surprised  to  find  her  hands 
and  neck  bandaged  and  smarting  painfully,  while 
across  a  »chair  by  the  bed  lay  the  ruins  of  what 
had  been  her  pretty  blue  gown.  Then  it  all  came 
back  to  her,  and  she  cried  out  again,  as  she  felt 
the  wild  terror  of  those  few  seconds  which  had 
seemed  like  years.  At  the  sound,  her  mother 
came  forward  to  the  bed. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ?  "  she  asked  gently. 

"  I  don't  know."  And  Penelope  began  to  cry, 
in  weak,  hysterical  pity  for  herself.  "  What  hap- 
pened ?  Was  I  burned  to  death  ?  "  she  asked,  as 
soon  as  she  could  speak  again. 

Her  mother  did  not  even  smile  at  the  odd  ques- 
tion ;  she  shuddered  a  little,  as  she  bent  over  her 
daughter. 


DANFORTH.  187 

"No,  dear;  but  you  might  have  been,  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  Danforth." 

"  Danforth !  "  And  Pen  looked  wonderingly  up 
into  the  loving  eyes  above  her. 

"  Yes ;  the  others  were  too  much  frightened  to 
help  you ;  but  he  ran  out  into  the  hall,  and  caught 
an  armful  of  the  boys'  coats,  and  held  them  over 
you  on  the  floor.  There  was  no  one  else  near 
enough  to  do  anything;  and  if  he  hadn't  been 
quick  to  think  and  to  act,  — "  Mrs.  Stoddard 
paused,  and  a  hot  tear  splashed  down  on  Pen's 
cheek. 

"  Did  Dan  do  all  that  for  me  ? "  said  Penelope, 
looking  solemnly  up  at  her  mother. 

"  He  not  only  did  it,  but  he  did  it  at  the  risk  of 
his  life,  almost." 

"And  was  he  burned?"  Pen  asked  the  ques- 
tion with  an  odd  little  catch  in  her  breath. 

"  Only  a  little,  on  one  hand  and  his  cheek.  But 
now  you  must  try  to  go  to  sleep,  dear.  It  is 
almost  midnight,  and  I  want  you  to  get  some  resjt, 
so  you  can  be  able  to  be  taken  home  to-morrow." 

"  But  I  don't  feel  as  if  I  could  ever  sleep  again," 
said  Pen  restlessly.  "  As  soon  as  I  shut  my  eyes, 
I  keep  seeing  the  blaze  all  around  me.  Oh, 
Mamma  Stoddard,  wasn't  Dan  splendid  ?  I  never 


188  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

supposed  he'd  do  such  a  thing  for  me.  You're 
sure  he  wasn't  burned  much  ?  " 

Late  the  next  afternoon,  Dan  forth  sat  by  the 
library  fire,  nursing  his  burned  hand  and  poring 
over  the  pamphlets  which  had  come  with  his  new 
camera,  the  day  before.  His  white  face,  with  a 
small  burn  on  his  left  cheek,  and  his  bandaged 
hand  were  the  only  signs  of  his  experience  of  the 
preceding  night;  and  beyond  a  little  annoyance 
at  the  inconvenience  it  was  costing  him,  and  a 
curiously  unsteady  feeling  in  his  knees,  Danforth 
thought  little  about  the  matter,  though  every  one 
else  in  the  house,  the  night  before,  had  gone  away 
with  a  new  respect  and  admiration  for  quiet  Dan. 
Jack  and  Bobbie,  in  particular,  had  prostrated 
themselves  before  their  brother,  who  had  received 
with  an  ungrateful  disgust  their  attempts  to  lionize 
him ;  and  he  had  blushed  and  stammered  and 
wriggled  while  Mrs.  Stoddard  was  trying  to  thank 
him,  until,  in  mercy  to  him,  she  had  left  her 
gratitude  quite  unspoken. 

Now,  however,  she  came  into  the  room  and 
roused  him  from  his  blissful  study  of  lenses  and 
plates,  by  saying,  — 

"  Danforth,  the  carriage  will  be  at  the  door  in 
a  few  minutes  now,  and  Pen  has  asked  to 


DANFORTH.  189 

see  you,  before  she  goes.  Will  you  come  up- 
stairs?" 

Feeling  strangely  like  a  culprit,  Danforth  rose 
and  followed  Mrs.  Stoddard  out  of  the  room.  He 
had  been  dreading  some  such  summons,  and  he 
felt  no  wish  to  see  Pen  until  they  could  both 
ignore  the  past.  Boy  as  he  was,  he  had  realized 
that  they  stood  together  in  great  danger,  the 
evening  before ;  but,  boy-like,  he  had  no  idea 
what  to  say  about  it,  and  regarded  any  words  as 
being  quite  superfluous.  Moreover,  his  hand 
smarted,  and  he  felt  tired  and  cross  after  the 
excitement.  In  fact,  the  hero  had  returned  to 
the  normal  boy  again,  and  the  normal  boy  was  a 
little  out  of  temper  and  extremely  ill  at  ease. 

Penelope  was  lying  on  the  sofa,  listening  for  his 
step.  Her  face  brightened  as  Danforth  came  into 
the  room,  although  he  looked  rather  forbidding,  as 
he  reluctantly  advanced  to  her  side. 

"I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you,  Dan,"  she 
began  slowly. 

"  What's  the  use  of  trying  ? "  responded  Dan- 
forth bluntly,  while  he  stood  frowning  down  at 
her. 

"  But  you  kept  me  from  being  burned  to  death," 
she  said,  "everybody  says  so,  and  the  last  I  re- 


MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

member  is  your  holding  me  down,  under  the  coats. 
How  could  you  be  so  brave  ?  "  and  her  eyes  filled 
with  tears. 

But  Danforth  was  dumb.  He  found  no  words 
to  say,  just  then,  for  a  sudden  memory  of  the 
scene  rushed  back  to  him,  as  he  stood  looking 
down  at  the  girl  before  him.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  he  had  never  before  known  how  pretty  she 
was,  how  yellow  her  hair  and  how  pink  her 
cheeks ;  and  only  last  night,  she  had  almost  — 

All  at  once,  Penelope  and  the  sofa  grew  misty 
before  his  eyes,  and,  to  his  intense  mortification, 
he  felt  two  great  tears  rolling  down  his  cheek. 

"Don't  be  cross  about  it,  Dan,"  Penelope  was 
begging  him.  "  I  only  want  to  tell  you  how  good 
you  were.  You  see,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you,  I 
should  have  been  dead  to-day." 

"Bother  take  it  all,  Pen!  What's  the  use  of 
making  such  a  fuss  about  it?  I  didn't  do  anything 
more  for  you  than  I  had  to,  and  I'd  have  done  it 
for  anybody  else  in  the  same  scrape,  so  you  needn't 
feel  so  everlastingly  grateful  to  me."  And  Dan's 
face  turned  scarlet,  as  he  pulled  off  his  glasses 
and  rubbed  away  the  offending  mist  upon  them. 

"  I  know  that,  Dan ;  but  'twas  for  me,  and  I  do 
thank  you,"  persisted  Pen  seriously.  "  But  if  you 


DANFOKTH.  191 

won't  let  me  talk  about  that,  can't  we  say  we'll  be 
good  friends  after  this,  and  shake  hands  on  it  ? " 
And  she  held  up  her  small  hand,  enveloped  in  its 
wrappings  of  old  linen. 

Danforth  took  it  awkwardly,  and  stood  looking 
as  if  he  really  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  it. 
Then,  of  a  sudden,  his  face  changed,  and  he  said 
huskily,  — 

"  We  are  friends,  Pen,  and  we'll  stand  by  each 
other.  I'm  sorry  I  shut  your  cat  in  the  door,  and 
I  hope  you'll  be  all  right,  in  a  day  or  two." 

He  felt  Pen's  fingers  give  his  hand  an  answering 
squeeze  ;  then  he  escaped  from  the  room,  with  the 
uncomfortable  conviction  that  he  had  been  ex- 
tremely ungracious. 


CHAPTER   X. 

HIDE   AND   SEEK. 

A  FEW  days  later  Margaret's  vacation  came  to 
an  end,  and  early  one  winter  afternoon,  she  and 
Molly  were  pacing  up  and  down  the  long  platform 
of  the  station,  talking  busily  while  they  waited 
for  the  train  which  was  to  carry  Margaret  back  to 
her  pupils  once  more.  It  was  a  clear,  cold  winter 
day,  and  the  yellow  sunshine  gleamed  over  the 
waves  of  the  harbor  and  the  scattered  schooners 
lying  at  anchor  there,  and  beautified  even  the  old 
wharf  with  its  border  of  shabby  buildings,  and  the 
great  gap  in  the  roof  of  the  station  where  the 
tower  had  been  eaten  away  by  a  recent  fire.  Far 
down  the  bay,  a  Turkish  man-of-war  showed  its 
dark  outline  above  the  dazzling  surface  of  the 
water;  and,  nearer  the  shore,  two  saucy  little 
oyster-boats  were  puffing  to  and  fro,  with  the  air 
of  having  the  concerns  of  a  nation  hanging  upon 
every  revolution  of  their  wheels.  Then  there 
came  the  sound  of  a  distant  whistle,  followed 

192 


HIDE   AND    SEEK.  193 

by  another  close  at  hand,  and,  a  moment  later, 
the  train  rolled  up  beside  the  platform,  shutting 
out  the  whole  bright  picture  with  the  dingy  out- 
line of  its  sides. 

Margaret  glanced  up  indifferently,  while  she 
waited  for  the  crowd  to  move  away,  then  her 
whole  face  brightened,  as  she  caught  sight  of  a 
boyish  figure  capering  up  and  down  on  the  plat- 
form of  one  of  the  cars,  and  waving  his  hat  to 
attract  her  attention. 

"  Dan  !  Where  did  you  come  from  ?  "  she  ex- 
claimed, forsaking  Molly  to  hurry  forward  to  greet 
her  pupil. 

"  New  York,  of  course ;  where'd  you  s'pose  ? 
Uncle  Jerry  and  I  came  down  yesterday,  and  I 
knew  we'd  find  you  here,"  responded  the  boy 
gleefully,  as  he  seized  her  bag  and  umbrella,  and 
handed  them  to  the  sable  porter.  "  Uncle  Jerry 
took  a  place  for  you  at  New  York,  so  as  to  make 
sure  of  it." 

Margaret  turned  back  to  introduce  the  boy  to 
Molly,  and  to  speak  one  last  word  to  her  sister ; 
then  she  followed  Danforth  into  the  car  where 
Gerald  was  waiting  for  them. 

"  Tell  you,  this  is  fine,"  said  Danforth  content- 
edly, as  Margaret  took  off  her  jacket,  and  settled 


194  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

herself  in  her  seat.  "  I  was  so  afraid  I'd  miss  you, 
somehow  or  other." 

"  You  should  have  come  up  yesterday  and  spent 
the  night  here,"  said  Margaret,  turning  to  wave 
her  hand  to  Molly  who  stood  watching  them  as 
the  train  slowly  moved  away.  "  But  tell  me,  how 
is  everybody  at  home  ?  " 

With  the  undisguised  interest  which  every  one, 
in  travelling,  feels  privileged  to  manifest  in  his 
neighbor,  the  people  about  them  had  smiled  at  the 
boy's  eager  greeting  of  this  pretty  young  woman. 
Now,  from  behind  the  safe  screen  of  novel  or  news- 
paper, they  listened  with  amusement  to  the  quick 
chatter  which  followed,  while  they  speculated 
vainly  as  to  the  relationship  existing  between 
the  members  of  the  little  party.  Uncle  Jerry 
sat  silent,  for  the  most  part,  watching  Margaret's 
bright  face  as  she  replied  to  Danforth's  questions, 
and  any  one  looking  closely  at  him,  might  have 
seen  a  little  look  of  weariness  or  sadness  in  his 
pleasant,  kindly  eyes.  But  Margaret's  face  was 
turned  a  little  away  from  him,  and  Danforth  was 
too  much  interested  in  her,  to  pay  much  attention 
to  his  uncle  who  could  study  Margaret  unob- 
served. How  sweet  and  bright  she  was,  he 
thought.  No  wonder  that  she  had  completely 


HIDE   AND    SEEK.  195 

won  his  quiet  nephew ;  and  Uncle  Jerry  smiled 
a  little  to  himself,  as  he  listened  to  Danforth's 
eager  flow  of  words.  Then  he  grew  grave  again, 
and  after  a  few  minutes  he  excused  himself  and 
went  away  out  of  the  car. 

"  But  what  sent  you  down  to  New  York  ? " 
asked  Margaret,  after  she  had  replied  in  detail  to 
Danforth's  manifold  questions. 

"  Uncle  Jerry  wanted  me  to  see  Dr.  Heinrich 
again.  We  had  a  fine  time,  though,  for  we  went 
to  the  theatre  last  night,  and  went  pretty  much 
all  round  the  city  this  morning.  Don't  you  think 
the  '  L '  is  immense,  Miss  Davis  ?  It's  such  fun 
to  ride  along,  and  peek  in  at  everybody's  up-stairs 
windows." 

Unknown  to  herself,  Margaret's  face  grew  sud- 
denly grave,  as  she  recalled  her  last  ride  down 
through  Third  Avenue  and  the  Bowery,  on  one 
of  those  warm,  breathless  days  of  late  summer 
when  the  very  plants  in  the  windows  seemed  to 
be  gasping  for  air.  The  crowded,  noisy,  littered 
rooms,  as  she  flew  past  them,  had  made  her  long 
to  escape  from  that  vast  Bedlam  into  her  own 
clean,  cool  little  home  city  again.  The  glimpses 
of  life  she  had  seen  that  day,  the  roar  of  the 
streets  and  the  suggestive  fumes  of  chloride  of 


196        MARGARET  DAVIS,  TUTOR. 

lime  had  scarcely  been  according  to  her  idea  of 
fun.  She  had  wondered  whether  one  could  be 
happy  to  live  anywhere  within  the  limits  of  a 
city  known  to  have  such  horrors  inside  it.  And 
yet,  she  did  not  fully  believe  that  Rivington 
Street  offered  the  one  open  door,  through  which 
all  these  wretched,  swarming  multitudes  were  to 
pass  on  into  ways  of  pleasantness  and  peace. 

Something  of  this  was  in  her  mind  now,  as  she 
sat  looking  at  the  quiet,  snow-covered  country 
across  which  they  were  rushing.  She  was 
roused  by  Danforth's  asking, — 

"  What  is  it,  Miss  Davis  ?  You  look  as  if  some- 
thing didn't  suit." 

She  turned  back  to  him,  with  the  quick  smile 
which  he  knew  so  well. 

"It  doesn't,  Dan.  I  was  deep  in  social  prob- 
lems, ever  so  far  from  here.  But  I  want  to  forget 
all  that,  and  hear  more  about  your  Christmas 
vacation.  What  have  you  been  doing  to  your- 
self?" she  added,  as,  for  the  first  time,  she  caught 
sight  of  his  bandaged  wrist  and  the  long  red  scar 
on  the  back  of  his  hand,  from  which  he  had  just 
pulled  his  glove. 

"  I  burned  me  a  little,  the  other  night.  It's  most 
well  now,  though,"  said  Danforth  evasively. 


HIDE   AND    SEEK.  197 

Margaret  stretched  out  her  hand  and  drew  his 
toward  her. 

"  What  a  terrible  burn ! "  she  said  pityingly. 
"  How  did  you  do  it,  Dan  ?  " 

To  her  surprise,  the  boy  blushed  crimson  and 
dropped  his  eyes,  as  he  answered,  — 

"  We  tipped  over  that  tall  lamp  in  the  drawing- 
room,  and  I  was  helping  put  it  out.  'Tisn't  much 
now.  My  hand  is  almost  well,  but  my  wrist  is 
pretty  bad.  Want  to  see  ?  " 

"  Oh,  don't,"  interposed  Margaret.  "  It  makes 
me  sick  to  think  of  it,  even,  for  you  must  have 
suffered  so  much.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  ?  " 

"  Pen  was  burned  more  than  I  was,"  said  Dan- 
forth,  with  a  second  blush.  "  She's  been  ill,  ever 
since  then ;  but  they  say  she's  almost  well  again 
now,  and  she  isn't  going  to  be  scarred  any,  that's 
one  good  thing." 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,  Dan,"  Margaret  urged. 
"  What  was  it?  " 

"  Truly,  there  isn't  much  to  tell,"  he  answered, 
with  some  confusion.  "  The  lamp  tipped  over, 
and  Pen's  gown  caught  fire.  We  were  both 
burned  some;  that's  all." 

At  a  loss  to  explain  his  unwillingness  to  speak 
of  the  affair,  Margaret  could  only  conclude  that 


198        MARGARET  DAVIS,  TUTOR. 

Danforth  was  in  some  way  to  blame  for  the  acci- 
dent. Accordingly,  she  changed  the  subject  and, 
for  the  next  hour,  they  talked  of  other  matters. 
Then  Uncle  Jerry  came  back  to  them  again. 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  be  away  from  you  so  long," 
he  said  apologetically,  as  he  dropped  into  his  seat; 
"but  I  found  a  friend  in  one  of  the  cars  back  here, 
Thornton,  the  man  who's  running  our  electric 
line.  You  may  have  heard  me  speak  of  him.  He 
came  up  from  Hartford  to  Springfield,  and  I  was 
talking  with  him  and  didn't  notice  how  the  time 
went." 

So  Hugh  had  been  on  the  same  train  with  her, 
and  she  had  never  suspected  it.  Margaret  leaned 
back  in  her  chair  and  stared  hard  at  the  rugged 
outline  of  Mount  Tom,  under  whose  shadow  they 
were  passing.  She  wondered  if  Gerald  had  men- 
tioned her  name,  and  Hugh  had  not  taken  the 
trouble  to  say  he  had  known  her.  Would  this 
wearisome  game  of  hide  and  seek  never  come  to 
an  end?  It  was  bad  enough  to  have  him  go 
away  and  leave  her  so  suddenly ;  it  was  even  worse 
to  have  him  within  reach,  where  she  was  in  con- 
stant expectation  of  meeting  him  again,  without 
knowing  whether  her  anticipations  were  those  of 
hope  or  fear.  She  was  just  beginning  to  breathe 


HIDE    AND    SEEK.  199 

quietly  again,  when  her  attention  was  cauglit  by 
Gerald's  next  words. 

"What  do  you  think  of  our  young  hero?"  he 
asked,  with  a  glance  at  Danforth,  who  had  walked 
to  the  door  of  the  car  and  stood  there,  looking  out. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  she  answered. 

"  Hasn't  Dan  told  you  ?  I  thought  you'd  have 
noticed  his  burn." 

"He  hasn't  told  me  anything,  except  that  the 
lamp  was  upset,  and  he  and  Pen  burned." 

"That's  a  small  part  of  the  story,"  said  his 
uncle,  bending  forward  and  speaking  quickly,  as 
Danforth  started  to  come  back  to  them.  "  The 
children  were  alone  in  the  room,  and  they  lost 
their  heads  completely,  all  but  Dan.  Penelope 
would  surely  have  been  burned  to  death,  if  he 
hadn't  buried  her  under  a  pile  of  overcoats,  and 
held  her  there  by  main  strength  until  the  fire  was 
smothered.  'Twas  a  wonder  that  he  wasn't  more 
seriously  burned,  himself.  But  what  do  you 
think  of  our  boy  now,  Miss  Davis  ?  " 

A  smile  was  Margaret's  only  answer,  for  Dan- 
forth was  within  hearing  again;  but  that  smile,  so 
happy  and  tender  with  her  pride  in  her  boy,  said 
more  to  Uncle  Jerry  than  eloquent  words  could 
have  done.  Then  she  turned  to  Dan. 


200  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me,  my  boy?"  she  said 
impulsively.  "You  ought  to  have  known  how 
proud  of  you  I  should  be." 

"  I  didn't  s'pose  you'd  care,"  he  answered,  in  a 
low  voice,  while  he  picked  nervously  at  a  loose 
thread  in  the  edge  of  his  overcoat. 

"  That's  not  quite  fair  to  me,  Dan,"  she  replied 
gently.  "  Did  you  really  believe  that  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  didn't,"  said  Danforth  honestly,  as  he 
raised  his  eyes  to  her  face.  "  I  knew  you'd  like 
me  to  do  it;  but  what  was  the  use  of  making  such 
a  time  about  it?  The  others  have  harped  on  it 
till  they  have  made  me  tired;  and  'twas  no  great 
affair  anyhow.  But  I'm  awfully  hungry." 

It  seemed  very  pleasant  to  Margaret  to  settle 
back  into  her  peaceful  routine,  the  next  morning. 
Her  vacation  had  been  a  most  enjoyable  one ;  but 
the  time  had  been  almost  too  fully  occupied,  for 
she  was  a  favorite  in  her  own  particular  circle  of 
friends,  and  every  moment  that  she  could  spare 
from  her  mother,  was  claimed  for  the  endless  suc- 
cession of  teas  and  dinner-dances,  in  which  her 
sisters  delighted.  Two  weeks  of  this  rushing  ex- 
istence had  made  her  glad  to  go  back  to  the  quiet, 
restful  atmosphere  of  the  Atherton  house  again; 
though  it  was  almost  with  a  feeling  of  shame  that 


HIDE  AND   SEEK.  201 

she  admitted  to  herself  how  much  more  interest- 
ing she  found  the  bright  chatter  of  Bobbie  and  the 
boys,  and  the  gentle,  old-time  flavor  of  Grandma 
Atherton's  conversation,  than  the  society  nothings 
of  the  acquaintances  she  had  been  meeting  so  con- 
stantly. She  did  not  realize  that  it  all  came  from 
having  a  personal,  practical  interest  in  life,  from 
her  earnest  wish  to  make  the  most  and  the  best  of 
these  young  people  in  her  care.  Instead  of  seeing 
how  her  life  was  daily  broadening  and  deepening 
from  her  contact  with  her  pupils,  and  her  study  of 
their  characters  and  needs,  she  only  told  herself, 
again  and  again,  that  she  was  growing  narrow 
and  dull.  The  strong  instinct  of  motherhood, 
which  is  latent  in  every  true  woman  until  circum- 
stances develop  it,  had  sprung  into  active  life,  in 
the  presence  of  these  motherless  children ;  and,  all 
unconsciously,  Margaret  was  giving  them  her  best 
and  truest  self. 

Life  was  at  its  smoothest,  for  the  next  two  or 
three  weeks.  Their  short  separation  had  taught 
the  children  how  much  they  had  grown  to  depend 
upon  their  tutor,  so  they  welcomed  her  back  with 
enthusiasm,  and  plunged  into  their  lessons  with  a 
will.  Bobbie  was  wrestling  with  the  Greek  alpha- 
bet, now,  and  groaning  over  it,  as  every  normal 


202  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

child  has  groaned  before  her ;  while  the  boys  were 
making  havoc  of  the  finest  lines  of  much-abused, 
long-suffering  Virgil,  or  elaborately  tattooing  them- 
selves with  their  pencil-points,  as  they  pondered 
upon  the  problems  of  reversion  of  series,  for  pre- 
liminary examinations  were  looming  up  in  the 
near  future,  and  college,  the  first  step  to  full-grown 
manhood,  was  but  a  year  and  a  half  away. 

The  days  passed  pleasantly  and  all  too  quickly, 
to  Margaret's  mind.  She  enjoyed  the  sterner 
winter  of  northern  New  England,  the  bright,  brac- 
ing days  when  she  could  go  out  for  long  walks  and 
drives,  the  furious  storms  which  swept  down  the 
valley,  piling  the  snow  high  over  the  fences  and 
heaping  great  drifts  in  every  sheltered  corner, 
while  the  wind  roared  about  the  old  house  and 
made  the  warm  place  by  the  fireside  doubly  attrac- 
tive, after  going  out  with  the  boys  to  battle  with 
the  storm.  It  seemed  to  her  that,  until  they  had 
spent  the  long,  cosy  evenings  together,  she  had 
never  really  known  the  family.  Grandma  Ather- 
ton  was  always  the  same  sweet,  motherly  little 
woman  ;  but  over  the  blazing  hickory  logs  even 
Grandpa  Atherton  thawed  out  and  told  stories  of 
the  days  of  his  far-off  boyhood ;  while,  viewed  in 
the  flickering  light  of  the  fire,  Bobbie  became  more 


HIDE   AND    SEEK.  203 

gentle  and  womanly,  more  considerate  of  her 
grandparents  and  her  brothers.  Ever  since  Christ- 
mas, she  had  treated  Danforth  with  a  new  defer- 
ence quite  unlike  the  little  air  of  superiority  which 
she  had  formerly  assumed  toward  him ;  and  during 
the  first  few  days  after  his  burn,  she  had  hovered 
over  him  with  the  quick  pity  of  girlhood  for  any 
wounded  creature,  to  the  manifest  discomfort  of 
Danforth  who  had  a  boyish  antipathy  to  being 
coddled.  But  bright  as  Bobbie  always  was, 
lovable  as  she  could  be  when  she  chose,  Marga- 
ret's real  enjoyment  lay  with  the  boys,  in  Jack's 
proud,  manly  spirit,  in  Danforth's  gentle  affection. 
And  the  boys  responded  generously  to  her  love, 
showing  in  countless  little  ways  their  hearty  ad- 
miration for  her,  their  enjoyment  of  her  society 
and  their'  willingness  to  be  guided  by  her  judg- 
ment. 

She  saw  more  of  Gerald,  too,  at  this  time.  A 
troublesome  cold  and  cough  kept  him  at  home  in 
the  evenings,  'and  he  usually  formed  one  of  the 
group  about  the  drawing-room  fire,  where  they 
gathered  to  listen  to  Margaret's  singing,  and  to 
devour  the*  vast  pans  of  popcorn  which  formed  a 
part  of  Jack's  nightly  program.  Margaret  found 
the  young  man  a  charming  addition  to  their  circle, 


204  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

and,  moved  by  a  shy,  nameless  pity  for  him,  she 
watched  over  him,  quick  to  anticipate  his  wishes 
and  minister  to  his  comfort,  all  unconscious  of  the 
new,  deep  look  of  pain  which  sometimes  crossed 
his  pleasant  face. 

They  were  all  sitting  there  in  the  drawing-room, 
one  night,  Gerald  and  his  mother  reading  at  one 
table,  while  Margaret  and  the  children  were  play- 
ing stop,  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  fireplace. 

"  Just  fancy  the  feelings  of  my  respected  great- 
grandma,"  suggested  Jack  wickedly ;  "  if  she  could 
see  us  playing  cards  on  top  of  her  table  !  I'm  glad 
she  can't  appear  to  us." 

"  What  for  ? "  inquired  Danforth,  looking  up 
from  his  hand.  "  Most  likely  she  played  cards 
herself." 

"  Don't  you  believe  it,"  returned  Jack,  with  con- 
viction. "  She  was  too  near  puritan  days,  and 
probably  thought  cards  were  a  sin." 

"  Nine  of  spades !  Ten  of  spades  ! "  proclaimed 
Bobbie.  "  Is  it  a  stop  ?  "  And  she  looked  inquir- 
ingly about  the  table. 

"  'Tis,  for  all  me,"  said  Jack. 

"  And  me,"  added  Danforth.  "  How  is  it  with 
you,  Miss  Davis  ?  " 

But  Margaret  had  lost  all  consciousness  of  the 


HIDE  AND   SEEK.  205 

game,  for  she  had  overheard  Gerald's  last  remark 
to  his  mother  and,  of  a  sudden,  the  voices  of  the 
children  had  grown  faint  and  far-away. 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,"  he  had  said,  looking  up  from 
his  book ;  "  Thornton  is  coming  over  here  to-night. 
He  came  to  the  office,  just  as  I  was  leaving,  to  get 
me  to  help  him  out  of  some  sort  of  a  muddle  about 
their  right  of  way.  I  told  him  to  come  over,  this 
evening,  and  we'd  talk  it  up,  at  our  ease.  I  told 
Maggie  to  bring  him  in  here,  when  he  came, 
for  I  thought  you'd  like  to  meet  him.  He's  a 
thoroughly  good  fellow  and  a  gentleman." 

"  Is  it  a  stop,  Miss  Davis  ?  "  demanded  Bobbie 
impatiently. 

"N  —  no, — yes,  —  I'm  not  sure."  And  Mar- 
garet stared  blankly  at  her  cards. 

"  Have  you  the  jack  of  spades  ?  We  want 
him,"  explained  Jack,  looking  in  amazement  at 
his  tutor,  for  she  was  usually  quick  to  think. 

"  No ;  it  isn't  here,"  responded  Margaret  hastily, 
while  her  unseeing  eyes  rested  upon  the  jack, 
which  lay  uppermost  in  her  hand. 

Five  minutes  later,  Bobbie  challenged  her  for 
playing  the  missing  card,  and  Margaret  roused  her- 
self from  her  dream. 

"  Forgive  me,  Bobbie,"  she  said  contritely.     "  I 


206  MARGAKET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

didn't  mean  to;  but  I  forgot.  I'm  not  feeling 
quite  well  to-night,"  she  added,  with  a  wan  little 
smile ;  "  and,  if  you'll  excuse  me,  I'll  go  up  into  my 
room  and  lie  down  for  a  while." 

She  was  but  just  in  time,  for,  as  she  went  wearily 
up  the  stairs,  she  heard  the  bell  ring.  Mechani- 
cally she  paused  for  a  moment  in  the  dark  upper 
hall,  to  listen  to  Maggie's  steps  as  she  went  to 
admit  the  guest.  Then,  turning  suddenly,  she 
fled  to  her  room  and  closed  the  door,  as  if  she 
dared  not  trust  herself  to  hear  the  well-known 
voice  which  was  asking  for  Gerald. 

For  some  unexplained  reason,  Grandma  Ather- 
ton  felt  a  quick  liking  for  the  stranger  who  came 
into  the  room.  To  be  sure,  Grandma  Atherton's 
hospitality  and  her  liking  for  young  people  were 
almost  boundless ;  and  the  mere  fact  that  it  was  a 
friend  of  Gerald's  would  have  led  her  to  adopt  a  tone 
of  cordiality  to  any  one  whom  he  chose  to  introduce. 
However,  this  young  man  was  quite  to  her  taste. 

It  would  be  hard  to  say  wherein  lay  the  attrac- 
tion, for  Mr.  Thornton  was  far  from  being  handsome. 
In  fact,  his  dark  face  was  undeniably  homely ;  but, 
apart  from  all  that,  there  was  such  an  air  of  simple 
sincerity  and  manliness  about  him,  that  one  forgot 
his  face  in  listening  to  the  hearty  ring  of  his  voice 


HIDE   AND    SEEK.  207 

and  in  feeling  the  firm  grasp  of  his  hand.  And 
yet,  tall  and  strong  and  athletic  as  he  was,  there 
was  nothing  about  him  that  seemed  to  dwarf 
Gerald  into  insignificance,  as  sometimes  happened 
with  large  men.  There  was  nothing  aggressive 
about  his  personality.  On  the  contrary,  under  all 
his  healthy,  vigorous  physique,  there  was  a  lurking 
suggestion  of  gentleness  and  quiet. 

He  was  but  just  seated  before  the  fire,  answer- 
ing with  an  easy  courtesy  to  Grandma  Atherton's 
welcome,  when  there  came  a  strange  interruption. 
Laddie,  who  had  been  dozing  in  the  library,  had 
wakened  at  the  sound  of  the  bell,  and  lifted  his 
head  in  a  dreamy  curiosity.  He  had  just  let  it 
drop  back  again  on  his  yellow  paws,  and  nestled 
down  to  sleep  once  more,  when  he  heard  Mr. 
Thornton's  voice  in  the  drawing-room.  He  started 
up,  listened  eagerly  for  a  moment  until  he  heard 
the  voice  again,  then  he  dashed  into  the  drawing- 
room  and  threw  himself  upon  the  stranger,  licking 
his  face  and  crying  aloud  in  his  joy  over  the  unex- 
pected meeting. 

Fearing  that  Mr.  Thornton  might  resent  Lad- 
die's excited  demonstrations,  Jack  had  sprung  for- 
ward to  pull  him  away.  To  his  surprise,  he  saw 
the  young  man  bending  over  the  dog,  stroking  his 


208  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

golden  head  and  calling  him  by  his  name,  with 
apparently  as  much  pleasure  in  the  meeting  as 
Laddie  himself  had  shown. 

"Why,  do  you  know  Laddie?"  he  asked,  in 
amazement. 

"  You  can  see  for  yourself,"  answered  Mr. 
Thornton,  with  a  smile.  "  But  do  tell  me  how  you. 
came  to  have  him." 

"  He  isn't  ours,"  explained  Gerald,  who  was 
looking  on  in  surprise  at  the  dog's  wild  greeting. 
"  He  is  only  a  guest,  for  he  belongs  to  the  chil- 
dren's tutor,  Miss  Davis." 

"  Miss  Davis !  "  Mr.  Thornton  gave  a  quick 
start  of  surprise,  which  was  hidden  by  a  fresh 
onslaught  from  Laddie. 

"Yes;  Miss  Margaret  Davis.  Do  you  know 
her?" 

But  Mr.  Thornton  had  already  mastered  him- 
self, and  he  answered,  with  seeming  indifference,  — 

"  Yes ;  that  is,  I  met  her  a  few  times,  two  or 
three  years  ago ;  but  she  has  probably  forgotten 
me.  I  used  to  see  the  dog  often,  though,  and  I 
petted  him  a  good  deal.  You  see,  he  remembers 
his  old  friend." 

"  Miss  Davis  was  here  till  just  before  you  came 
in,"  said  Bobbie,  who  had  been  casting  admiring 


HIDE  AND   SEEK.  209 

glances  at  the  stranger;  "but  all  at  once  she 
didn't  feel  well,  and  went  to  lie  down.  I'll  call 
her,  if  you'd  like." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  it  would  be  too  bad  to  disturb  her. 
I  will  wait  till  some  other  time ;  that  is,  if  your 
grandmother  will  allow  me  to  come  again."  And 
he  looked  at  Grandma  Atherton,  with  a  face 
which  had  suddenly  lost  all  its  genial  smile. 

A  little  later,  Danforth  left  the  drawing-room, 
where  Jack  had  subsided  into  a  book  and  Bobbie 
was  posing  before  the  fire,  with  one  eye  upon  the 
guest.  He  went  softly  up  the  stairs  and  along 
the  hall  to  Margaret's  door  where  he  paused  for 
a  moment ;  then  he  knocked  gently. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Margaret's  voice. 

"  I  only  came  up  to  see  if  you  didn't  want  some- 
thing," said  the  boy,  as  he  opened  the  door  into 
the  dark  room. 

"  Oh,  Dan  ?  Come  in,  dear ;  I  only  want  you." 
And  she  sat  up  on  the  sofa,  where  she  had  thrown 
herself. 

"I'm  afraid  I'll  disturb  you,"  he  said,  drawing 
back  as  if  to  go  away. 

"  No ;  'twas  good  of  you  to  come,  and  I  wish 
you'd  stay  a  little  while,"  said  Margaret,  touched 
by  his  evident  wish  to  do  something  for  her. 


210  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"If  I'm  not  in  the  way."  And  he  came  for- 
ward to  her  side.  "  I  was  afraid  you  were  ill  and 
might  need  something,  and  the  others  were  busy, 
talking  with  Mr.  Thornton." 

To  his  surprise  and  alarm,  Margaret's  head  went 
down  on  the  pillow,  and  he  heard  a  smothered  sob. 
It  had  never  before  occurred  to  him  that  a  grown 
woman  could  cry,  least  of  all,  his  bright,  merry 
Miss  Davis. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked  in  dismay.  "Shall  I 
call  grandma?" 

"  Oh,  don't,"  she  begged,  choking  back  her  tears. 
"  I'm  only  a  little  tired  and  nervous.  Just  don't 
say  anything  about  it,  dear.  Stay  here  and  talk 
to  me  for  a  while,  and  I  shall  feel  better.  I  was 
lonely,  truly,"  she  added  wistfully,  as  the  boy 
dropped  down  beside  her  on  the  sofa,  never 
dreaming  how  deep  was  the  loneliness  of  which 
she  spoke. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

JACK'S  SKATING. 

"  OH,  Miss  Davis,  the  funniest  thing !  "  And 
Bobbie  dropped  into  the  nearest  chair,  as  she 
pulled  off  her  mittens  and  unfastened  her  jacket. 

"What  now?"  asked  Margaret  quietly,  for 
Bobbie  reveled  .in  superlatives  and,  whenever  she 
was  at  all  eager  or  excited,  her  conversation  was 
thickly  sprinkled  with  exclamation  points. 

"  Why,  grandma  sent  me  over  to  Riverton  for 
some  more  yarn,  and  I  just  stopped  in  at  Pen's  for 
a  minute  or  two,  and  there  sat  Dan.  Did  you 
ever?" 

"  Ever  sit  there  ? "  queried  Margaret,  with  a 
smile,  though  at  heart  she  was  as  much  surprised 
as  Bobbie  could  have  wished,  at  the  thought  of 
quiet  Dan's  going  of  his  own  will  to  call  on 
any  girl,  least  of  all,  the  irrepressible  Penel- 
ope, whom  he  had  always  treated  with  such 
indifference. 

"  No ;  you  know  I  don't  mean  that,"  said  Bob- 

211 


212  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

bie  a  little  impatiently.  "  But  the  idea  of  Dan, 
our  Dan,  going  to  see  Pen,  all  his  lonesome !  " 

"  Perhaps  he  went  on  some  errand  or  other," 
suggested  Margaret,  laughing  at  Bobbie's  sisterly 
incredulity  that  her  brother  could  find  any  other 
girl  attractive. 

"  No ;  he  didn't."  And  Bobbie  shook  her  head 
in  violent  dissent.  "  He  didn't  act  so  a  bit,  for  his 
overcoat  was  off,  and  he  was  sitting  down  his  whole 
weight,  with  Pen's  everlasting  old  white  cat  on  his 
knee.  You  know  he  hates  cats.  I  tried  to  make 
him  come  home  with  me ;  but  Pen  teased  him  to 
stay  a  little  longer,  and  he  just  wouldn't  budge." 
And  Bobbie  paused  to  sigh  over  the  unwonted 
situation. 

"But  why  shouldn't  he  run  in  to  see  Pen? 
He's  known  her  so  long  and  so  well,"  urged  Mar- 
garet, much  amused  by  Bobbie's  excitement. 

"  Yes ;  only  it's  so  funny,"  responded  Bobbie, 
returning  to  her  original  proposition.  "  But 
won't  I  give  it  to  him  when  he  does  come 
home."  And  springing  up,  she  danced  from 
one  toe  to  the  other,  laughing  exultantly  to 
herself,  meanwhile. 

"  No,  Bobbie ;  please  not."  And  Margaret 
looked  up  suddenly. 


JACK'S  SKATING.  213 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Bobbie  maliciously.  "  It's 
such  a  joke,  and  'twould  make  Dan  wild." 

"  Just  the  reason  you  ought  to  keep  still  about  it, 
little  girl,"  said  Margaret.  "  Remember  how  sensi- 
tive Dan  is,  Bobbie,  and  that  what  may  seem  a  good 
joke  to  you  or  Jack,  may  really  hurt  him.  You 
do  hurt  him  oftener  than  you  know,"  she  added 
gently.  "  Dan  is  too  kind  to  do  it  to  you,  and  it's 
not  quite  fair  for  you  to  tease  him  so  unmerci- 
fully." 

"  But  I  don't  tease  him,  Miss  Davis,"  protested 
Bobbie,  as  she  threw  herself  into  the  chair  again, 
with  a  pout.  "  He's  babyish,  and  makes  a  fuss 
over  every  little  thing." 

"  Babies  don't  usually  save  their  friends  from 
being  burned  to  death,"  observed  Margaret,  hold- 
ing up  her  work  to  survey  the  bunch  of  nastur- 
tiums she  was  embroidering  on  Bobbie's  new 
tablespread. 

"I  don't  mean  that  way,"  returned  Bobbie 
quickly.  "  Dan  has  sand  enough,  as  Jack  calls 
it ;  but  he's  more  than  half  girl,  after  all,  and  if 
you  scold  him  or  tease  him  the  least  little  bit,  it 
upsets  him." 

"  Then,  if  you  know  it  so  well,  what  makes  you 
do  it?"  asked  Margaret  promptly.  "Yqu  really 


214  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

can't  enjoy  hurting  Dan,  Bobbie.  I  supposed  you 
only  did  it  by  accident.  Dan  is  very  fine,  and 
sometimes,  after  your  sharp  words,  I  have  seen 
him  draw  back  as  if  you  had  struck  him.  You 
keep  teasing  him,  and  yet,  he  would  do  anything 
he  could  for  you." 

"Well,"  Bobbie  was  beginning  defensively, 
when  she  was  interrupted  by  the  sound  of  Jack's 
voice  from  the  library. 

"  I  don't  care,  I  shall  go,"  he  was  saying  ex- 
citedly. 

"  But  I  tell  you  the  ice  isn't  strong  enough," 
Grandpa  Atherton  answered,  in  the  overbearing 
tone  he  sometimes  used  with  the  boys,  and  which 
invariably  roused  Jack  to  rebellion. 

"  The  fellows  are  all  there,  and  there's  no  dan- 
ger." And  Jack  made  a  little,  impatient  motion 
which  set  his  skates  to  clicking  against  each  other. 

"  It  makes  no  difference  to  me  what  the  other 
fellows  do.  As  long  as  you  stay  in  this  house,  I 
shall  insist  upon  your  minding  me,"  said  his  grand- 
father, with  unnecessary  sternness. 

Margaret  could  fancy  just  how  Jack's  dark  eyes 
were  flashing,  and  she  longed  to  go  in  and  break 
up  the  angry  conference ;  but  she  dared  not 
interfere. 


JACK'S  SKATING.  215 

"But  I  told  Ellie  I'd  come  down,  and  he'll  wait 
for  me,"  begged  Jack.  "  It's  perfectly  safe,  grand- 
pa; they've  been  skating  there  for  two  days.  I 
don't  see  why  you  won't  let  me  go." 

"  Because  I  say  that  it  isn't  best,"  said  Grandpa 
Atherton  angrily.  "  That  is  all  you  need  to  know 
about  it.  You  are  here  to  mind  me,  and  I  expect 
to  have  prompt,  ready  obedience." 

For  a  moment,  Jack  glared  at  his  grandfather 
without  speaking  ;  then  he  muttered,  — 

"  I'll  skate  if  I  choose,  there  or  somewhere  else." 
And  he  stalked  out  of  the  library,  jerking  aside 
the  portiere  with  an  impatient  regret  that  there 
was  no  door  to  bang,  as  an  outlet  for  his  exasper- 
ated feelings. 

It  was  a  clear,  crisp  day  in  late  January.  A 
sudden  thaw,  followed  by  a  few  days  of  unusual 
cold,  had  covered  the  river  above  the  dam  with  a 
smooth  sheet  of  ice,  which  had  aroused  the  admi- 
ration of  every  owner  of  a  pair  of  skates,  and 
already  the  broad  surface  of  the  river  was  thick 
with  a  crowd  of  boys  and  girls.  On  his  way  to 
Riverton,  that  morning,  Jack  had  encountered 
Ellsworth  Pierson  who  had  started  for  the  ice; 
and  Jack  had  rushed  off  home  for  his  skates, 
promising  to  meet  his  friend  at  the  end  of  the 


216  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

bridge.  The  snow  had  come  early,  that  year, 
and  this  was  the  first  good  skating  of  the  season, 
so  it  was  doubly  provoking  to  be  stopped  in  the 
hall,  and  forbidden  to  have  a  share  in  the  sport. 
If  only  Grandpa  Atherton  had  not  been  quite  so 
decided  about  it,  Jack  could  have  borne  the  disap- 
pointment more  easily ;  but  there  was  something 
very  irritating  about  his  grandfather's  tone  and 
manner,  as  if  he  were  expecting  direct  disobedi- 
ence and  were  prepared  to  combat  it  to  the  last 
moment. 

Margaret  always  dreaded  these  contests,  for, 
although  Jack's  conscience  was  tender  and  he 
suffered  the  pangs  of  remorse  later,  in  the  time 
of  them,  he  was  too  angry  to  care  what  he  said. 
Moreover,  she  felt  that  they  gave  a  wrong  im- 
pression of  the  boy  to  Grandpa  Atherton  who, 
by  reason  of  his  deafness,  lost  much  of  Jack's 
conversation  in  his  gentler  moods,  and  rarely  saw 
him  during  the  fits  of  penitence,  which  followed 
his  outbursts  as  inevitably  as  the  hush  follows  a 
violent  thunder  shower.  Now  she  crossed  the 
room  to  the  window,  and  stood  looking  after  Jack 
as  he  walked  slowly  down  the  drive,  with  his 
collar  turned  up  about  his  ears,  his  skates  slung 
about  his  neck  and  his  little  gray  cap  on  the  back 


JACK'S  SKATING.  217 

of  his  dark  hair.  Already  the  reaction  had  come, 
and  his  very  walk  showed  his  dejection,  though 
he  did  his  best  to  cover  it  under  an  assumption  of 
scornful  indifference.  Then  he  disappeared  below 
the  edge  of  the  hill,  and  Margaret  returned  to  her 
work ;  but  through  all  the  rest  of  the  long  morn- 
ing, she  never  once  lost  the  little  feeling  of  regret 
and  discomfort  which  Jack's  outburst  had  caused 
her. 

Lunch-time  came  and  went  without  Jack's  ap- 
pearing ;  but  that  fact  caused  no  comment  for,  on 
Saturdays  when  the  children  had  no  lessons,  they 
were  often  irregular  at  the  meal.  Nothing  had 
been  said  to  Grandma  Atherton  or  Gerald,  in 
regard  to  the  morning's  discussion ;  and  yet  there 
seemed  to  be  a  little  cloud  resting  over  the  table, 
and  Bobbie  was  too  much  out  of  spirits  even  to 
tease  Danforth  about  his  sudden  interest  in  Penel- 
ope. 

Margaret  had  promised  to  go  for  a  ride  with 
Danforth,  that  afternoon ;  so,  soon  after  lunch, 
they  set  out,  with  Duke  prancing  and  pawing  the 
snow,  and  the  gay  little  sleigh  heaped  high  with 
fur  robes.  Tempted  by  the  bright,  cold  day  and 
the  fine  sleighing,  they  were  out  longer  than  they 
had  intended,  and  it  was  already  sunset  when 


218  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

they  drove  up  to  the  door  again.  Grandma  Ath- 
erton  met  them  on  the  steps,  looking  strangely 
excited. 

"  Miss  Davis,  where  is  Jack  ? "  she  asked 
quickly. 

"Jack?  I've  not  seen  him,"  answered  Mar- 
garet, in  some  surprise,  for,  in  her  enjoyment  of 
the  drive,  she  had  forgotten  the  conversation 
which  she  had  overheard,  that  morning. 

"  He  hasn't  come  home  yet.  It  is  so  late,  and 
Mr.  Atherton  says  they  had  some  sharp  words,  just 
as  he  was  going  away.  I  am  so  afraid  something 
has  happened  to  him."  And  she  looked  piteously 
at  Margaret,  as  if  begging  for  a  word  to  reassure 
her. 

For  some  reason,  Margaret  felt  her  heart  grow 
heavy  with  a  sudden  fear.  Jack  would  never 
mean  deliberately  to  disobey  his  grandfather ;  but 
he  was  always  rash  and  quick-tempered,  and  he 
had  gone  away  from  home  in  a  dangerously  reck- 
less mood. 

"  He  said  something  about  Ellie,"  said  Bobbie, 
who  had  followed  her  grandmother  to  the  door 
and  stood  watching  her  in  awed  silence.  "  Maybe 
he'd  know  where  Jack  is." 

Margaret  turned  to  Danforth. 


JACK'S  SKATING.  219 

"Dan,  will  you  — ?" 

But  Danforth  was  already  half  way  down  the 
hill,  and  Margaret  turned  back  to  Grandma  Ather- 
ton  again. 

"Come  in  to  the  fire,  dear,"  she  said  gently. 
"  You  are  shivering,  and  I  am  afraid  you'll  take 
cold.  Jack  is  probably  with  Ellie,  and  he  will 
come  back  with  Dan,  in  a  few  minutes." 

But  though  she  tried  to  smile,  Grandma  Ather- 
ton  was  too  anxious  and  sorrowful  to  respond 
to  Margaret's  efforts  to  soothe  her.  She  stood 
by  the  drawing-room  window,  looking  after  her 
grandson  as  he  went  flying  across  the  distant 
bridge,  and  then  was  lost  to  sight  between  the 
buildings  on  the  farther  side  of  the  river. 

"  If  he  would  only  hurry  a  little ! "  she  said 
almost  impatiently,  although  the  boy  was  urging 
Duke  forward  at  the  top  of  his  speed. 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  afterward,  he  was  back 
again,  breathless  and  chilled. 

"  Ellie  hasn't  seen  him  since  morning,"  he  said, 
throwing  himself  into  the  nearest  chair.  "  He 
promised  to  go  skating  on  the  river  with  Ellie, 
and  Ellie  waited  for  him ;  but  when  he  came  he 
was  rattled  about  something  and  wouldn't  go  to 
the  river  at  all.  He  said  he  was  going  up  to  the 


220  MARGARET  DAVIS,  TUTOR. 

reservoir,  and  wanted  Ellie  to  go  with  him ;  but 
Ellie  wouldn't.  He  tried  to  make  Jack  stay  here, 
for  'twas  so  far,  and  he'd  heard  that  the  ice  wasn't 
safe  up  there.  Jack  stuck  to  it  he'd  go,  and  went 
off  alone ;  and  Ellie  hasn't  seen  him  since." 

"  The  reservoir!  "  And  Gerald  came  hastily  out 
from  the  library.  "  Jackson's  men  were  telling  me 
to-day  that  the  ice  there  isn't  good  for  anything. 
Jack  never  would  walk  up  there,  either."  Never- 
theless,, he  was  pulling  on  his  coat  while  he  was 
talking. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Jerry?"  asked  his 
mother  anxiously. 

"  I  think  I'll  walk  up  that  way,"  he  said  reassur- 
ingly. "We  may  meet  him,  or  else  he  will  be 
here  before  we  get  back.  You'll  come,  won't  you, 
Dan ;  or  are  you  too  tired  ?  "  he  asked,  turning  to 
his  nephew  who  had  risen  and  was  restlessly  walk- 
ing up  and  down  the  hall.  "  We  shall  be  back  by 
seven,  at  the  latest ;  but  don't  wait  dinner  for  us." 

The  hour  that  followed  was  a  long  and  anxious 
one.  In  vain  Margaret  tried  to  convince  herself 
that  it  was  a  false  alarm,  that  Jack  would  come 
back  to  them,  safe  and  well.  She  could  only  re- 
call the  dull  foreboding  with  which  she  had 
watched  him  go  down  the  hill ;  and  she  was  con- 


JACK'S  SKATING.  221 

scious  that  her  words  had  the  ring  of  insincerity, 
as  she  endeavored  to  encourage  Grandma  Ather- 
ton  who  sat  by  the  window,  staring  out  into  the 
gathering  darkness  and  starting  nervously  at  every 
sound.  Grandpa  Atherton  was  tramping  up  and 
down  the  hall,  and  Bobbie  was  roaming  about  the 
house,  too  restless  to  settle  to  any  employment,  al- 
though she  insisted  upon  it  that  she  knew  Jack 
would  be  at  home  before  Uncle  Jerry. 

Slowly  the  moments  dragged  away.  It  .seemed 
at  times  as  if  the  clocks  must  have  stopped ;  then 
again  they  could  hear  the  solemn  tick,  tick  of  the 
tall  old  clock  in  the  dining-room,  as  it  told  off  the 
seconds,  in  just  the  same  tone  it  had  used  when 
Grandpa  Atherton's  first  shrill  cry  broke  the  still- 
ness of  the  ancient  rooms.  It  had  ticked  a  monot- 
onous welcome  to  the  baby  boy ;  it  had  ticked  a 
slow,  sad  farewell  to  the  young  mother,  and,  from 
that  day  to  this,  it  had  gravely  ticked  out  its  mes- 
sage in  the  stillness  which  accompanied  every 
family  crisis.  What  was  it  saying  now  ? 

Seven  o'clock  came,  half  past  seven,  eight ;  and 
still  no  one  appeared.  At  length  steps  were  heard 
outside.  Something  in  their  sound  told  Margaret 
that  they  were  the  bearers  of  no  good  news.  A 
moment  later,  the  door  opened,  and  Danforth  and 


222  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

his  uncle  came  into  the  hall.  There  was  no  need 
for  words ;  their  white,  set  faces,  the  weary  hope- 
lessness of  every  gesture  told  the  sad  truth,  that 
the  time  for  watching  and  waiting  had  ended,  and 
that  for  endurance  had  come. 

When  the  first  outburst  of  grief  was  over, 
Gerald  told  his  short  story :  how,  fearing  the 
darkness,  they  had  stopped  at  a  strange  house 
to  borrow  lanterns,  and  then  pressed  on  to  the 
pond,  as  rapidly  as  they  could ;  how  they  had 
found  the  ice  thin  and  broken  about  the  edges, 
and  with  a  great,  angry-looking  dark  hole  in  the 
middle,  and  how  Danforth  had  caught  sight  of  a 
small,  light  object  floating  there ;  how  they  had 
torn  away  rails  from  a  fence  near  by,  and  carefully 
worked  their  way  over  the  ice  until,  with  a  long 
pole,  they  had  drawn  the  object  towards  them,  to 
find  it  a  little  cap  of  pale  gray  cloth.  That  was 
all.  They  said  no  word  of  the  long,  dreary  walk 
homeward,  when  their  hearts  were  breaking  with 
their  own  sorrow,  and  with  their  knowledge  of 
the  anguish  they  were  carrying  to  those  who 
watched  at  home. 

Slowly  the  night  wore  away.  No  one  had 
thought  of  dinner;  no  one  thought  to  go  to 
bed.  It  seemed  as  if  the  routine  of  the  house 


JACK'S  SKATING.  223 

had  suddenly  stopped,  and  its  life  were  ended; 
only  the  old  clock  went  on,  on,  as  if  its  tale  were 
not  all  told.  Up-stairs  in  the  Wilderness,  sur- 
rounded by  the  countless  treasures  which  Jack 
had  stored  there,  Danforth  and  Bobbie  were  hud- 
dled together  on  the  floor,  now  sobbing  convul- 
sively, now  still,  and  holding  their  breaths  to 
listen  yet  once  more  for  the  well-known  step  and 
voice.  Down  in  the  library,  Gerald  was  trying  to 
quiet  arid  comfort  his  mother,  holding  himself  out- 
wardly calm  for  her  sake,  though  he  shuddered  as 
he  thought  of  the  dread  work  in  store  for  him,  with 
the  first  light  of  day.  Margaret  did  what  she  could 
for  Grandma  Atherton ;  then  she  went  away  and 
left  the  mother  and  son  together,  for  she  felt  she 
had  no  right  to  intrude  upon  their  sorrow,  and  she 
knew  that  the  children  were  longing  to  have  her 
come  to  them.  As  she  passed  the  drawing-room 
door,  she  paused  for  a  moment,  wondering  whether 
she  ought  to  go  to  Grandpa  Atherton,  who  sat 
alone  by  the  dying  fire.  Then  she  heard  his  voice, 
husky  and  broken,  — 

"Oh,  Father,  if  I  have  caused  this,  punish  me, 
not  him!  Nevertheless,  not  as  I  will — "  His 
words  died  away,  and  Margaret  could  hear  the 
old  man  sobbing  like  a  little  child. 


224  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

One  after  another,  the  old  clock  chimed  out  the 
hours,  every  one  of  them  carrying  bright,  merry 
Jack  farther  into  the  past,  away  from  their  present 
lives.  Up  in  the  Wilderness,  Bobbie  had  cried 
herself  to  sleep  on  the  sofa;  but  Danforth  and 
Margaret  still  sat  before  the  fire,  talking  of  Jack 
and  trying  to  realize  the  blow  which  had  come 
upon  them.  In  his  sorrow,  the  boy  had  drawn 
even  closer  to  Margaret ;  and  as  she  sat  stroking 
the  yellow  head  resting  against  her  shoulder,  and 
speaking  a  few  words  from  time  to  time,  she  felt 
that  here  was  her  return  for  the  care  and  love  she 
had  given  him,  the  ability  to  meet  him  in  his  grief 
and,  in  a  measure,  to  share  it  with  him. 

At  length  the  new  day  showed,  faint  and  gray, 
through  the  eastern  windows.  It  was  not  so  bad 
in  the  night,  for  then  it  seemed  as  if  the  whole 
world  were  sharing  in  their  darkness,  and  lying 
silent  in  sympathy  with  their  sorrow.  But  the 
morning  would  bring  in  the  familiar  sights  and 
sounds  of  their  every-day  lives,  which  as  yet  they 
were  powerless  to  meet.  Danforth  was  so  still 
that  Margaret  hoped  he  had  dropped  into  a  doze  ; 
but,  as  she  stirred  slightly,  he  looked  up,  and  she 
saw  that  he  had  not  been  sleeping.  Down-stairs, 
all  was  quiet,  except  for  the  clock  which  still 


JACK'S  SKATING.  225 

continued  its  measured  strokes,  on  and  always  on. 
Slowly  the  gray  light  in  the  east  grew  stronger ; 
then  its  lower  edge  was  tinged  with  a  rosy  glow, 
which  broadened  and  deepened  into  a  band  of 
dazzling  scarlet,  until,  from  its  very  midst,  rose  the 
flaming  circle  of  the  sun  which  shone  pitilessly  in 
upon  the  mourning  household.  It  had  just  left  the 
horizon,  and  Margaret  was  stealing  quietly  across 
the  room  to  draw  the  curtains,  that  the  sudden 
flood  of  light  might  not  arouse  Bobbie,  when  she 
caught  the  sound  of  the  quick  trot  of  a  horse's  feet. 
The  next  moment,  the  outer  door  flew  open,  and 
a  boyish  voice  was  heard  shouting,  — 

"  Where  are  you,  everybody?  Grandma !  Uncle 
Jerry  !  Breakfast !  " 

Bobbie  and  Danforth  were  on  their  feet  in  a 
twinkling,  and  rushed  down-stairs  just  as  Grandma 
Atherton,  pale  and  trembling,  caught  her  grand- 
son in  her  arms.  It  took  only  a  moment  for  Jack 
to  tell  of  his  adventures.  Unwilling  to  disobey 
his  grandfather,  but  determined  to  skate  in  spite 
of  him,  he  had  gone  to  the  reservoir,  where  the 
ice  had  broken  under  him.  Fortunately  for  Jack, 
some  wood-choppers  had  seen  him  sinking  and 
rushing  to  the  spot,  they  had  succeeded  in  catch- 
ing him,  just  as  he  was  going  down  for  the  last 


226  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

time.  They  had  taken  him  out,  drenched  and 
shivering,  and  had  hurried  him  away  to  their 
rough  cabin ;  but  by  the  time  that  his  clothes 
were  sufficiently  dry  to  allow  him  to  put  them  on 
once  more,  it  was  too  late  for  a  return  over  the 
rough  mountain  roads ;  but,  with  the  first  light  of 
the  dawn,  they  had  set  off  for  home.  The  risen 
sun  of  the  new  day  looked  in  upon  the  rejoicing 
family,  while  the  old  clock  ticked  its  welcome  to 
the  wanderer. 

The  first  glad  murmur  died  away  and  a  hush 
fell  upon  the  little  group,  as  Grandpa  Atherton 
extended  his  hand  above  their  heads  in  bene- 
diction, while  he  said  brokenly,  — 

"  For  this  my  son  was  dead,  and  is  alive  again  ; 
and  was  lost,  and  is  found." 

Then  he  bowed  his  head  upon  his  clasped  hands. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE   MEETING    OF   OLD   FRIENDS. 

EVER  since  morning,  the  clouds  had  been  hang- 
ing low  over  the  hills.  By  noon  they  had  settled 
down  in  a  solid,  dark  gray  pall,  and  the  air  from 
time  to  time  was  thick  with  a  flurry  of  fallen 
flakes,  while  a  biting  wind  swept  down  through 
the  valley,  whirling  the  white  particles  before  it 
in  a  cloud. 

"  Even  if  'tis  late  in  the  season,  this  is  going  to 
be  the  storm  of  the  winter,"  Gerald  had  said,  as  he 
was  buttoning  his  coat,  preparatory  to  returning 
to  his  office  after  lunch.  "I'm  glad  our  electric 
line  is  through ;  I  shouldn't  care  to  walk  over  to 
Riverton  and  back  twice  to-day." 

An  hour  later,  Jack  came  into  the  library  where 
the  others  sat  cuddled  over  the  fire. 

"  Anybody  here   that  wants   to   go   out    for   a 
walk?"  he  inquired.     "I'm  going  over  to  River- 
ton  ;  want  to  come,  somebody  ?  " 
227 


228  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"  Catch  me  ! "  And  Bobbie  shook  her  head  in 
scorn. 

"  What's  struck  you  to  go  out,  such  an  after- 
noon, Jack  ?  "  asked  Danforth  lazily.  "  You  must 
be  hard  up." 

"  Evidently  you're  no  good.  Well,  I  suppose 
I  shall  have  to  go  alone,"  said  Jack,  with  his 
eyes  fixed  suggestively  upon  Margaret. 

She  took  the  hint  and  rose. 

"  I  believe  I'd  like  to  go ;  that  is,  if  you'll  let 
me,"  she  said. 

"Good  for  you!  But  I'm  going  to  walk,  I 
warn  you,  and  I  want  to  go  clear  over  to  the 
printing-office,  to  get  some  ink  and  ask  Mr.  Mer- 
rill how  to  take  my  press  apart  to  oil  it.  It's 
getting  dreadfully  squeaky." 

"Ought  you^to  go,  Miss  Davis?"  asked  Grand- 
ma Atherton.  "  It's  snowing  hard  already,  and 
I'm  afraid  the  storm  will  be  worse  than  you  think." 

"I  don't  mind  storms,"  answered  Margaret 
lightl}r.  "  I'll  dress  for  it,  and  I  am  used  to  being 
out  in  all  weathers,  so  I  never  take  cold.  I  will 
be  ready  in  a  few  minutes,  Jack,  and  then  I'll 
walk  as  far  and  as  fast  as  you  please." 

"  Oh,  Jacky,  let  me  go  too."  And  Bobbie 
started  up. 


THE   MEETING   OF   OLD   FKIENDS.  229 

"Oh,  Bobbie,  I  won't,"  he  responded.  "You 
wouldn't  go,  a  minute  ago,  and  now  you  can't." 

"  But  I  didn't  know  Miss  Davis  was  going," 
she  urged.  "Let  me  go  with  you." 

"  Not  much  !  You  had  your  chance  and  lost 
it.  I  asked  you  to  go,  and  you  said  you  wouldn't ; 
and  now  I  don't  want  you."  And  Jack  marched 
out  into  the  hall  to  wait  for  Margaret,  leaving 
Danforth  to  console  his  sister  as  best  he  might. 

It  was  not  entirely  devotion  to  Jack  which  had 
roused  Margaret,  that  afternoon.  In  spite  of  the 
storm,  the  prospect  of  a  long  walk  was  very 
attractive  to  her,  accustomed  as  she  was  to  being 
out  every  day  and  in  all  sorts  of  weather.  For 
at  least  a  part  of  the  time  between  the  morning 
lessons  and  the  long,  quiet  evenings  by  the  fire, 
she  loved  to  be  out  in  the  open  air.  There  was 
an  almost  intoxicating  pleasure,  to  her  strong, 
young  womanhood,  in  fighting  her  way  through 
storm  and  wind  and  rain.  It  had  been  a  constant 
source  of  surprise  to  her,  in  her  experience  of 
Riverton,  to  find  how  much  more  the  people  there 
dreaded  facing  a  storm,  than  in  the  larger  city 
where  she  had  always  lived.  At  home,  her 
friends  went  out  whenever  they  chose,  regard- 
less of  the  weather ;  but  here  in  the  little  village 


230  MARGARET    DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  where  one  would  have 
naturally  expected  to  find  a  hardy  race  of  coun- 
trymen, out-of-door  life  was  practically  suspended 
in  a  storm.  Even  the  men  and  boys  shut  them- 
selves up  in  the  house  and  waited  for  the  sun 
to  shine  again,  before  they  would  venture  to  stir 
from  under  shelter.  How  much  real  enjoyment 
such  people  missed,  she  thought  to  herself  pity- 
ingly, as  she  dressed  for  her  walk.  There  was 
an  exhilaration  in  facing  a  driving  storm,  which 
few  things  else  could  equal. 

Hastily  putting  on  a  short  blue  serge  skirt, 
kept  for  just  such  occasions,  and  adding  her 
mackintosh  and  a  saucy  little  toque  to  match 
it,  she  went  running  down  the  stairs,  looking 
such  a  pretty  picture  of  perfect  health  and  en- 
joyment, that  Jack  felt  moved  to  express  his 
approbation,  as  they  went  floundering  away  down 
the  hill,  through  the  deepening  snow. 

"  It's  some  fun  to  go  out  with  a  woman  that 
isn't  afraid  of  the  snow,"  he  remarked,  with  an 
admiring  glance  at  Margaret's  head  and  shoulders 
which  were  already  powdered  with  the  falling 
flakes.  "  They  generally  have  to  have  so  many 
umbrellas  and  things,  that  they  lose  all  the  fun 
of  being  out." 


THE   MEETING    OF   OLD   FRIENDS.  231 

"I  wouldn't  have  missed  it  for  anything," 
panted  Margaret,  pausing  for  a  moment  with 
her  back  to  the  gale.  "  Don't  tell,  Jack ;  but 
it  makes  me  want  to  run,  just  like  a  cat  when 
the  wind  blows." 

"Come  on,  then;  why  not?"  And  Jack  set 
off  at  full  speed. 

Margaret  looked  over  her  shoulder  to  see  that 
she  was  unobserved ;  then,  carried  away  by  the 
excitement  of  the  storm,  she  went  flying  after 
him,  down  the  long  drive  and  out  into  the  road, 
where  she  halted,  laughing  and  breathless. 

"  I  repeat  it,  don't  tell  of  me,  Jack,"  she  said, 
as  soon  as  she  could  speak.  "  'Twas  very  undig- 
nified ;  but  I  always  lose  my  head,  in  a  day  like 
this." 

"  Wish  you  lost  it  oftener,"  remarked  Jack 
approvingly.  "  I  know  how  you  feel,  though ; 
I've  often  been  so." 

"I  suppose  I  must  be  proper  again,  now  we 
are  in  sight  of  everybody.  Is  my  hat  straight?" 
she  asked,  as  she  settled  two  or  three  hairpins 
loosened  by  her  run. 

"Straight  enough,"  responded  Jack,  with  a 
lofty  indifference  to  the  fact  that  all  a  woman's 
dignity  depends  upon  an  accurate  placing  of  her 


232-  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

headgear.  "Come  ahead."  And  he  tramped 
away  to  the  bridge. 

Margaret  fell  into  step  at  his  side.  In  spite  of 
the  snow  and  the  consequent  difficulty  of  walking, 
Jack's  long,  swinging  step  was  just  what  she  en- 
joyed, and  frequent  practice  in  walking  together 
had  taught  them  just  what  pace  to  adopt. 

"There  aren't  many  women  who  know  how  to 
walk,"  Jack  had  remarked,  one  day,  with  boyish 
scorn.  "Some  of  them  lop  and  roll  and  wobble 
along,  and  the  rest  generally  trot  till  it  makes  me 
out  of  breath  to  watch  them.  You  walk  the  way 
the  English  women  did,  we  used  to  see  in  India ; 
the  way  they  did  when  they  first  came  out,  that 
is.  They  lost  it  all  by  the  time  they'd  been  there 
a  few  weeks." 

Even  Margaret  was  glad  to  rest  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, by  the  time  they  reached  the  safe  haven  of 
the  printing-office.  Chief  among  Jack's  Christmas 
gifts  had  been  a  little  press,  which  now  was  ab- 
sorbing most  of  his  time  and  attention,  and  Uncle 
Jerry  had  given  him  a  note  of  introduction  to  Mr. 
Merrill,  the  editor  of  the  local  paper.  Accord- 
ingly, the  kindly  old  gentleman  could  receive  the 
storm-beaten  pedestrians  into  his  official  sanctum, 
without  fear  of  their  having  manuscript  poems 


THE  MEETING   OP   OLD   FRIENDS.  233 

concealed  about  their  persons,  ready  to  be  drawn 
forth  at  a  moment's  notice.  Their  host  drew  two 
chairs  up  to  the  register,  while  he  expressed  his 
hospitable  surprise  at  seeing  a  woman  out  in  such 
a  storm,  until  Margaret  began  to  feel  that  he  re- 
garded her  as  being  a  particularly  aggressive 
young  Amazon.  Then,  as  soon  as  they  were 
seated,  Jack  launched  forth  a  shower  of  questions 
in  regard  to  the  technicalities  of  the  business. 
The  old  man  listened  attentively,  much  amused 
by  the  boy's  eager  interest  and  by  the  information 
upon  the  subject,  which  he  had  contrived  to  pick 
up.  Encouraged  by  Mr.  Merrill's  genial  manner, 
Jack  chattered  on,  all-unconscious  of  the  fact  that, 
at  home,  Bobbie  was  revenging  herself  for  his  re- 
fusal to  let  her  join  them  in  their  walk,  by  empty- 
ing into  one  heterogeneous  pile  his  carefully-sorted 
fonts  of  type. 

"  You  see,"  Jack  explained  at  length,  with  one 
of  his  brilliant  smiles ;  "  as  soon  as  I  get  a  little 
more  used  to  running  it,  I'm  going  to  start  up  a 
weekly  paper  like  yours,  only  larger.  There  are 
lots  of  the  fellows  that  would  take  it ;  but  I  don't 
just  know  how  I  can  get  stuff  to  fill  it.  Do  you 
write  most  of  The  Register  yourself;  or  how  do 
you  get  it?" 


234  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

Mr.  Merrill  smiled,  as  he  recalled  his  overflow- 
ing waste-basket. 

"  I  have  a  good  deal  sent  to  me,  one  time  and 
another,"  he  admitted;  "sometimes  more  than  I 
can  use." 

"  That's  what  I  supposed,"  said  Jack  promptly. 
"  Now,  why  couldn't  you  sell  some  of  it  out  to 
me  ?  I'd  pay  something,  not  very  much  till  I  was 
under  way ;  but  then,  'twould  be  better  than  it  is 
to  waste  it  all.  I  want  some  good  lively  stories, 
and  some  funny  jokes,  not  chestnuts ;  and  I  sup- 
pose I'd  have  to  stick  in  a  few  poems,  just  for  the 
looks." 

Leaning  back  in  his  revolving  chair,  Mr.  Merrill 
laughed  loud  and  long,  as  he  thought  of  the  prob- 
able emotions  of  aspirants  for  literary  fame,  who 
found  their  carefully-written  lines  appearing  in 
Jack's  sheet. 

"Excuse  me,  young  man,"  he  said,  as  soon 
as  he  could  speak.  "I  didn't  mean  to  be  disre- 
spectful ;  but  this  struck  me  as  being  a  new  de- 
parture in  journalism.  I'm  afraid  I  can't  give 
you  my  cast-off  contributions  ;  but  I'll  tell  you 
what  I  will  do,  I'll  write  an  editorial  for  your 
opening  number." 

"  That'll    be    fine,"    exclaimed    Jack     eagerly. 


THE   MEETING   OF   OLD   FRIENDS.  235 

"  Make  it  real  long,  won't  you,  so  as  to  fill  up  a 
good  deal  of  room.  What  else  do  you  have  ?  " 

"  Occasionally  we  interview  a  few  people,  if  they 
are  very  noted,"  suggested  the  editor  mischiev- 
ously. "  Those  things  take  pretty  well,  and  you 
might  try  it.  And  now  our  afternoon  edition  is 
just  going  to  press,  and  perhaps  you  and  Miss 
Davis  would  like  to  see  it  put  through." 

Leaving  the  office,  they  mounted  to  the  top 
story  of  the  building  where  they  lingered  for  a 
long  half-hour  in  the  room,  while  Mr.  Merrill  de- 
voted himself  to  Margaret's  instruction,  and  Jack 
roamed  about  the  place  at  his  own  sweet  will,  con- 
vulsing the  compositors  with  his  questions  and 
winning  their  liking  by  his  bright,  interested  face 
and  manner.  When  at  length  they  came  down- 
stairs again  and  out  into  the  street,  they  were 
amazed  to  find  how  late  it  was,  and  how  the  snow 
had  accumulated  during  the  time  that  they  had 
been  under  cover. 

"  It's  no  use  for  us  to  think  of  walking  home, 
Jack,"  Margaret  said,  as  a  car  came  down  the 
street  toward  them,  sending  a  line  of  fierce  blue 
light  along  the  snow-covered  wire.  "Let's  take 
this  car,  and  get  home  as  soon  as  we  can." 

It  was  easier  said  than  done,  at  least,  in  so  far 


236  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

as  the  getting  home  was  concerned.  Happily  un- 
conscious of  the  fact  that,  for  the  past  half-hour, 
the  same  car  had  been  running  up  arid  down  over 
a  few  hundred  feet  of  track,  in  its  unsuccessful 
efforts  to  fight  its  way  onward,  they  hailed  it,  and 
took  their  seats,  congratulating  themselves  on  their 
good  fortune  in  finding  it  at  hand.  So  interested 
were  they  in  talking  over  their  call  on  Mr.  Merrill 
that,  for  a  few  moments,  they  did  not  notice  the 
remarkable  behavior  of  their  five-cent  conveyance. 
All  at  once,  Jack  sprang  up  and  walked  to  the 
door. 

"  What's  the  matter  here  ?  "  he  exclaimed  im- 
patiently. "  Why  don't  we  go  ahead  ?  " 

The  car  was  certainly  acting  in  a  most  peculiar 
fashion.  Now  it  stood  still  on  the  track,  while  its 
wheels  buzzed  round  and  round  on  the  rails ;  now 
it  backed  off  to  a  short  distance  and  made  little, 
ineffectual  rushes  at  the  unbroken  snow  ahead ; 
then  it  apparently  sat  down  and  waited,  metaphor- 
ically speaking,  with  its  hands  in  its  pockets,  while 
the  conductor  and  motorman,  seizing  their  brooms, 
swept  a  few  feet  of  track  bare  and  sanded  the  rails, 
preparatory  to  repeating  the  whole  performance 
once  more.  At  length  Jack  rebelled. 

"  This  is  getting  slightually  monotonous,"  he 


THE   MEETING   OF   OLD   FRIENDS.  237 

objected,  as  he  looked  at  his  watch.  "  We've  been 
just  the  even  half-hour  in  going  one  block  ;  at  this 
rate,  we  shall  be  till  day  after  to-morrow  morning 
in  getting  home.  Great  Csesar!"  And  he  re- 
mained speechless  with  disgust,  as  the  car  went 
ignorniniously  sliding  away  down  the  track  to  the 
power-house,  half  a  mile  away. 

"  Next  time  we  want  to  get  home,  we'll  take  a 
car  headed  the  wrong  way,"  suggested  Margaret 
laughing.  "  There  is  no  help  for  it,  Jack,  and  we 
may  as  well  make  the  best  of  it,"  she  added,  as  the 
car  stopped  at  the  power-house. 

"We've  evidently  come  back  for  reinforce- 
ments," said  Jack,  as  half  a  dozen  men,  muffled 
to  the  eyes  and  each  bearing  a  shovel  and  a  pail 
of  sand,  took  up  their  positions  on  the  front  plat- 
form. 

They  went  flying  up  the  track  once  more,  and 
regained  their  former  position  where  the  fight 
began  in  earnest.  While  Jack  went  out  to  recon- 
noitre, Margaret  sat  watching  the  workmen.  They 
were  so  enveloped  in  their  long  coats,  with  their 
collars  turned  up  to  meet  the  soft  hats  pulled 
down  over  their  faces,  so  covered  with  the  light 
snow  which  clung  to  their  clothing,  their  beards 
and  even  their  eyebrows,  as  to  be  absolutely  un- 


238  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

recognizable.  And  how  they  did  work !  She 
noticed  one  of  them  in  particular,  a  tall  man  in  a 
long  black  ulster  and  a  little  blue  yachting  cap, 
who  accomplished  as  much  as  any  other  two  men, 
while  he  seemed  to  keep  the  rest  in  good  humor 
by  his  constant  flow  of  spirits  and  fun.  She 
watched  him  with  amused  eyes,  while  he  tossed 
the  snow  to  the  right  and  left,  regardless  of  his 
fellow  workmen  who  chanced  to  be  within  range. 
She  wished  that  she  could  see  his  face.  He  must 
be  an  Irishman,  she  was  sure,  as  she  saw  his 
clumsy  purple  worsted  mittens.  Just  then  Jack 
came  back  into  the  car. 

"  Lively  prospect,"  he  remarked,  dropping  down 
by  Margaret's  side  and  taking  off  his  cap  to  shake 
away  the  snow.  "  We're  stuck  here,  just  like  a 
little  mice,  till  the  plow  can  get  to  us.  It's  over 
at  the  other  end  of  the  line  now,  went  up  an  hour 
ago,  and  they'll  come  back  as  soon  as  they  can. 
All  they're  going  to  try  to  do,  is  to  keep  one  track 
clear  till  it  stops  storming.  It's  'most  dark  now; 
wish  they'd  hurry  up." 

"  We  might  get  out  and  walk,"  suggested  Mar- 
garet. 

"No  use.  You  couldn't  walk  three  blocks  in 
this  storm,  to  say  nothing  of  a  long  mile.  No; 


THE   MEETING   OF   OLD   FRIENDS.  239 

we  will  stick  it  out,  here.  You  wait  a  minute, 
though  ;  I've  an  idea." 

He  left  the  car  again,  and  Margaret  saw  him 
leaping  through  the  snow  to  the  pavement.  When 
he  reappeared,  he  had  a  large  paper  bag  in  his 
hand. 

"  Thought  we  might  as  well  have  something  to 
amuse  ourselves  with,"  he  said  triumphantly,  as 
he  dropped  his  burden  into  Margaret's  lap.  "That 
mean  little  grocery  didn't  have  much  in  stock ;  but 
I  bought  some  crackers,  and  some  dates  so  I  could 
see  how  time  went." 

"We're  living  in  deeds,  not  years,  just  now," 
she  answered  merrily,  while  the  car  backed  off  for 
a  block  or  two,  and  then  made  a  fresh  lunge  at 
the  snow.  "I  always  envied  Robinson  Crusoe, 
myself,  and  it's  much  more  fun  to  be  cast  away  in 
a  wilderness  that  has  all  the  modern  improvements 
of  rapid  transit.  We  actually  went  ahead  as  much 
as  two  feet,  that  time,"  she  added.  "  I  only  wish 
we  had  a  few  more  passengers,  for  the  sake  of  ex- 
citement. I  don't  believe  in  monopolies." 

"  Most  likely  they  have  too  much  sense  to  go 
out  in  such  a  storm,"  returned  Jack  impertinently. 
"  Just  think  how  much  better  off  you'd  be,  over 
the  fire  at  home  with  Grandma." 


240  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

•'  Never ! "  protested  Margaret,  rising  and  going 
to  the  front  door  of  the  car,  to  look  at  the  work- 
men. "  I  wouldn't  have  missed  this  frolic  for  any- 
thing." 

"It's  a  blessing  that  Bob  didn't  come,"  said 
Jack  thankfully,  as  he  dived  into  the  bag  for  a 
fresh  supply  of  rations.  "She'd  have  been  in 
fifty  fits  by  this  time." 

"  Jack,  come  here  a  minute."  Margaret  spoke 
in  a  low  repressed  voice. 

"Yes  'um,"  responded  Jack  cheerfully,  as  he 
went  forward  to  her  side. 

"  Who  is  that  man  ahead  there,  the  one  in  the 
little  cap  ?  It's  snowing  so  fast  that  I  can't  see 
his  face." 

"That?  That's  Mr.  Thornton,  the  superin- 
tendent," said  Jack  indifferently.  "  He  knows 
how  to  make  them  work,  too;  he  just  keeps  his 
men  at  it,  all  the  time." 

"  Mr.  Thornton  ?  " 

"Yes.  Haven't  you  seen  him  before?"  asked 
Jack,  with  an  utter  unconsciousness  of  his  tutor's 
change  of  manner.  "He  was  over  at  the  house 
one  evening,  you  know;  where  were  you?  " 

"I  —  I  don't  know,"  faltered  Margaret,  as,  held 
by  a  strange  fascination,  she  pressed  her  cheek 


THE   MEETING   OP   OLD   FRIENDS.  241 

hard  against  the  cold  glass  of  the  door,  while  she 
stared  out  at  her  old  friend.  Strange  that  she 
hadn't  recognized  him  before,  she  thought,  as  she 
gazed  at  the  familiar  figure  whose  every  motion 
brought  back  to  her  mind  some  memory  of  the 
past.  She  no  longer  saw  the  other  men ;  her  eyes 
were  for  him  alone,  and  she  strained  them  to 
catch  another  glimpse  of  his  face  through  the 
fast-gathering  dusk.  She  forgot  Jack.  She  even 
forgot  to  move  away,  when  Mr.  Thornton  turned 
to  come  back  to  the  car.  All  at  once,  he 
glanced  up  and  met  her  gaze.  She  saw  the  color 
leave  his  face,  as  he  took  off  his  cap  with  a 
courtesy  which  he  tried  in  vain  to  render  in- 
different. If  only  she  dared  call  him  to  her,  and 
tell  him  of  all  the  sad  mistake  !  But  there  were 
Jack  and  all  those  strange  men,  and  perhaps  he 
no  longer  cared.  Deep  down  in  her  heart,  she 
knew  that  she  was  deceiving  herself,  and  that  she 
deserved  to  suffer  for  being  so  foolish ;  neverthe- 
less, she  merely  gave  a  slight  bow  in  answer  to 
his  salute,  and  walked  away  to  her  seat. 

A  moment  later  there  was  heard  a  brisk  hum- 
ming of  the  wires,  and  the  plow  came  rushing 
down  the  track  toward  them,  scattering  the  snow 
before  it  in  a  fine,  soft  mist.  It  came  to  a  halt, 


242  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

a  few  feet  away  from  them,  the  trolley  was  re- 
versed and  the  men  were  preparing  to  start  off 
once  more,  when  Hugh  called  the  motorman  to 
him  and  gave  him  some  instructions.  Then  the 
man  entered  the  car  where  Jack  and  Margaret 
sat,  patiently  waiting  for  further  developments. 

"  Mr.  Thornton  said  I  was  to  ask  you  if  you'd 
like  to  ride  home  in  the  plow,"  he  said,  pausing, 
hat  in  hand,  before  Margaret.  "  It's  likely  to  be 
a  good  while  before  we  get  a  car  through,  for  this 
one  has  to  go  back  to  the  power-house  for  more 
sand.  The  plow  will  go  straight  through,  though, 
and  it's  safe,  even  if  it  isn't  a  very  nice  place  for  a 
lady  like  you.  Some  smoky,  you  know,"  he  added, 
in  explanation ;  "  but  it's  better  than  'tis  to  lie 
here  all  night." 

"  What  a  lark  !  I've  always  wanted  to  see  the 
inside  of  the  thing."  And  Jack  sprang  to  his 
feet.  "  Come  ahead,  Miss  Davis ;  we'll  go  home 
in  style." 

He  led  the  way  to  the  great  blue  box  on  wheels, 
and  Margaret  climbed  into  it,  feeling  as  if  she 
were  in  some  strange  dream.  Hugh  stood  at  a 
little  distance,  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of  men. 
She  looked  at  him,  appealingly  this  time ;  he 
raised  his  cap  again.  Then  the  door  closed 


THE  MEETING   OF   OLD   FKIENDS.  243 

behind  her,  and  they  went  rushing  away  into 
the  darkness,  while  Mr.  Thornton  walked  back 
to  the  deserted  car,  saying  to  himself,  — 

"She  did  flirt  with  me  most  abominably,  and 
then  threw  me  over  like  a  broken  doll ;  but,  con- 
found it !  I'm  just  as  bad  as  ever.  If  I  hadn't 
my  reputation-  to  make,  I'd  give  up  my  contract 
here  to-morrow,  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  meet- 
ing her  any  day.  Well,  I'll  grin  and  bear  it  for 
a  while  longer."  But  his  face  had  no  suggestion 
of  a  grin,  as  he  spoke. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

BROTHER   JENKINS. 

"  DAN  SPAULDING,  I've  a  perfectly  fine  scheme," 
said  Jack,  coming  suddenly  into  the  Wilderness 
one  day,  a  week  or  two  later. 

"  What  now  ?  "  inquired  Danf orth,  looking  up 
from  the  bowl  of  water  in  which  a  dozen  blue 
print  photographs  were  floating  dejectedly  about, 
in  various  stages  of  development. 

"  Well,  now,  you  see  here,"  and  Jack  sat  down 
on  the  edge  of  the  low  table,  that  he  might  unfold 
his  plan  at  his  ease.  "  You  know  I'm  going  to 
start  up  my  paper,  in  a  week  or  two,  now  I've 
succeeded  in  getting  the  hang  of  my  press; 
and  I  want  some  good  stuff  to  fill  it  up  with." 

"Write  it,  then,"  suggested  Danforth  indiffer- 
ently, as  he  grasped  the  collar  of  Laddie,  who  was 
apparently  seized  with  a  suicidal  desire  to  drink 
from  the  water  in  which  the  prints  lay  soaking. 

"  I  can't  write  it  all,"  objected  Jack.  "  Besides, 
the  first  number  ought  to  be  an  extra  good  one, 

244 


BROTHER   JENKINS.  245 

so  all  the  fellows  will  think  they  want  to  sub- 
scribe." 

"  What  do  yon  want  to  go  into  the  thing  for, 
anyway  ? "  asked  Danforth.  "  It  will  be  more 
trouble  than  it's  worth." 

"  What  do  you  want  to  go  into  photography 
for?"  retorted  Jack.  "It's  more  trouble  than  it's 
worth,  and,  besides,  I'll  have  you  arrested  for  libel, 
unless  you  break  that  last  negative  of  Brownie 
Bell  and  me.  It  looks  as  if  we'd  both  been  dead 
for  a  couple  of  years,  and  then  dug  up,  all  of  a 
sudden,  when  we  weren't  expecting  it.  Now  if  I 
pose  the  whole  time  for  you  to  try  all  your  experi- 
ments on,  it's  only  fair  that  you  should  help  me 
out  with  starting'  my  paper.  By  the  way,  what 
shall  I  call  it?" 

"  The  Spaulding  Chestnut,"  responded  Danforth, 
with  unexpected  promptness.  "  I  say,"  he  added, 
suddenly  diving  into  the  bowl  before  him  ;  "  isn't 
this  coming  out  finely  ? "  And  he  held  up  a 
picture  of  Penelope,  with  her  white  cat  perched 
high  on  her  shoulder  against  the  laughing  face  of 
her  mistress. 

"  "Pis  good,  that's  a  fact,"  said  Jack  approvingly. 
"  You've  certainly  caught  the  knack  of  posing  Pen, 
whatever  you  do  to  me.  But  about  the  paper, 
now." 


246  MARGARET    DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

"  What  is  it  you're  after  ?  "  inquired  Danforth. 
"  You  might  as  well  out  with  it,  and  have  it  over." 

"  It's  only  something  that  will  be  fine  for  the 
paper,  and  give  us  a  jolly  lark,"  replied  Jack. 
"  It's  just  this  way ;  the  day  Miss  Davis  and  I 
were  at  the  Register  office,  I  was  asking  Mr. 
Merrill  what  to  do  to  fill  up,  and  he  said  I'd 
better  interview  somebody.  Don't  you  know 
how  all  the  papers  are  interviewing  Cleveland 
and  Ward  McAllister  and  that  kind  of  people, 
about  all  sorts  of  things?  Everybody  wants  to 
know  what  they'll  say  about  it,  and  it  sells  the 
paper.  Now,  that's  what  I'm  going  to  do." 

"  Whom  will  you  interview  ?  "  asked  Danforth, 
beginning  to  grow  interested. 

"  That's  what  I  couldn't  tell,  for  ever  so  long ; 
but,  last  night,  I  happened  to  hear  Uncle  Jerry 
talking  about  that  Mr.  Smithson,  who's  just  come 
to  Chester  to  live.  He  said  he's  the  one  that 
wrote  Breeze  'of  the  Prairie  and  Breath  of  the  Sea. 
You  know  we  thought  'twas  fine,  when  we  read  it, 
last  year." 

"  Really,  is  he  that  one  ?  "  And  Danforth's  face 
lighted  with  genuine  enthusiasm. 

"  Yes.  I  want  most  awfully  to  see  him,  myself, 
and  I  think  he'd  be  a  splendid  one  to  interview,  as 


BROTHER   JENKINS.  247 

a  starter.  He  must  be  fine,  if  he  could  write  a 
book  like  that,  one  of  these  great,  big  men,  with 
lots  of  stories  to  make  your  hair  stand  on  end.  He 
might  be  cross,  just  at  first;  but  we'd  tell  him  we 
liked  his  book,  and  then  he'd  be  willing  to  talk, 
you  know." 

"  We  ?  "  echoed  Danforth  interrogatively. 

"  Yes,  we,"  replied  Jack  firmly.  "  You  needn't 
think  I'm  going  to  put  it  through  alone  ;  you  must 
help  me.  Besides,  reporters  always  hunt  in  pairs, 
one  with  a  note-book  and  the  other  with  a  camera. 
You'd  just  do  for  it,  you  see." 

"  But  I  don't  see,  one  little  bit,"  protested  Dan- 
forth. "  I  don't  want  to  get  into  any  such  scrape, 
and  you  know  Uncle  Jerry  never  would  let  us 
go." 

"  I'll  fix  all  that,"  said  Jack  easily.  "  It's  only 
twenty  mile£  to  Chester,  so  we  could  go  at  ten  and 
get  back  at  six.  We  would  just  tell  him  that  we 
were  going  on  an  errand  that  would  take  us  all 
day,  and  we'd  tell  him  all  about  it  when  we  came 
home.  If  I'll  settle  that,  will  you  go  down  with 
me,  next  Saturday  ?  " 

"  I  don't  half  want  to." 

"  Just  think  of  talking  with  the  man  that  wrote 
Breeze  of  the  Prairie  !  "  urged  Jack.  "  Don't  you 


248  MAEGAKET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

remember,  when  we  read  it,  how  we  both  wanted  to 
ask  him  piles  of  questions  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  know;  but —  And  then,  what  if  Mr. 
Smithson  shouldn't  like  it?  " 

"  But  he  will,"  responded  Jack,  with  conviction. 
"  That  kind  of  people  always  do.  I  suppose  it 
makes  everybody  read  their  books.  Come,  Dan," 
he  added  persuasively,  "  I'll  promise  to  have  the 
whole  bother  of  it,  and  all  you'll  need  to  do  is  to 
come  along  with  me.  It's  ever  so  much  more  fun 
to  go  together,  and  I  won't  make  you  talk  any, 
only  just  snap  your  camera  at  him,  when  he's  talk- 
ing to  me  and  doesn't  notice  it.  You  ought  to  be 
willing  to  do  so  much.  Won't  you  go  ?  " 

Danforth  yielded,  as  he  always  did  when  Jack's 
voice  took  on  that  tone,  half-laughing,  half-caress- 
ing, wholly  irresistible. 

"  I'll  go,"  he  agreed ;  "  only,  if  we  get  into  a 
scrape,  I  won't  be  responsible.  I'm  only  going  as 
special  artist  of  the  expedition.  Now  do  let  me 
finish  these,  before  they  get  spoiled." 

"  All  right ;  let's  see  your  catalogue,  though." 
And  Jack  caught  up  the  little  book  in  which  his 
brother  kept  recorded  the  list  of  his  pictures. 
"Five  of  Miss  Davis,  two  of  Bob,  nineteen  of 
Pen,  seven  of  Laddie,  and  ten  of  me.  Jupiter 


BROTHER   JENKINS.  249 

Ammon!  That's  hard  on  Pen.  I  thought  I'd 
had  the  worst  of  it."  And  Jack  departed,  whis- 
tling. 

Five  days  later,  the  boys  started  upon  their  first 
professional  errand.  Just  how  Jack  bad  arranged 
it  with  Uncle  Jerry,  it  would  be  hard  to  say ;  but 
he  had  explained  their  prospective  absence  for  the 
day,  quite  to  his  uncle's  satisfaction.  At  least, 
the  weather  was  in  their  favor.  It  was  one  of  the 
clear,  bright  mornings  of  late  March  when  spring 
seems  close  at  hand.  The  two  boys  looked  un- 
usually manly,  as  they  stepped  on  board  the  train. 
Both  were  tall  for  their  age  and  well-formed,  and 
both  had  the  little  ease  of  manner  which  comes 
with  good  birth  and  good  training.  Jack's  face 
beamed  with  smiling  assurance,  as  he  patted  his 
pocket  wherein  lay  the  shining  new  note-book, 
and  thought  over  the  generous  store  of  informa- 
tion he  had  gained  as  to  the  tricks  and  manners  of 
the  interviewer.  Danforth  followed  him,  grasping 
his  camera  a  little  nervously,  for  he  had  a  faint,  a 
very  faint  doubt  as  to  the  propriety  of  their  errand, 
and  he  remembered  hearing  somewhere  that  great 
authors  were  not  always  very  courteous  to  their 
lesser  brethren  of  the  pen.  Nevertheless,  he  for- 
got all  that  as  soon  as  the  train  started,  for  Jack 


250  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

proceeded  to  unfold  his  plan  of  campaign,  and 
Danforth  could  only  admire  his  brother's  brilliant 
tact  in  arranging  the  speeches  he  would  make  to 
the  great  man  whom  they  were  so  soon  to  behold. 

"  You  see,"  said  Jack,  as  the  train  went  rushing 
across  the  meadows  above  Chester;  "we'll  go  to 
the  door  and  ask  the  servant  if  we  can  see  Mr. 
Smithson  on  professional  business.  That'll  get  us 
in,  for  he'll  probably  think  that  we  are  a  publisher 
or  something,  after  more  books.  Then  when  we 
get  into  his  library,  I'll  give  him  my  card  and  say 
that  we're  from  The  Riverton  Junior  Review,  and 
think  his  books  are  the  best  ones  in  the  world. 
By  that  time,  he'll  get  pretty  good-tempered,  and 
I'll  pepper  him  with  questions ;  and  while  I  am 
writing  down  the  answers,  you  turn  on  the  camera, 
and  count  the  books  and  the  pictures  on  the  walls, 
and  see  if  he's  gray  any.  He  most  likely  is,  for,  in 
Breeze  of  the  Prairie,  he  said  he  was  fifty  when  he 
landed  in  America.  Here  we  are !  Come  on." 

A  moment  later,  the  boys  stood  on  the  platform, 
looking  after  the  train  which  was  fast  vanishing  in 
a  cloud  of  dust  and  smoke.  Then  Jack  turned  to 
the  elderly  baggage  master. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  where  Mr.  Smithson  lives  ?  " 
he  asked. 


BROTHER   JENKINS.  251 

"  Never  heercl  of  him,  sonny,"  the  man  replied, 
as  he  picked  up  the  pole  of  his  truck. 

This  was  a  double  blow  to  Jack.  To  be  ad- 
dressed as  sonny  was  bad  enough ;  but  it  was 
nothing  in  comparison  with  the  disappointment 
of  finding  that  his  hero  was  unknown  to  his  very 
neighbors. 

"  Never  heard  of  him !  "  he  repeated  blankly. 
"  Why,  he's  a  great  author  and  wrote  Breeze  of  the 
Prairie" 

"  Never  heerd  of  that,  either,"  said  the  man,  with 
an  apologetic  chuckle.  "Say,  Jim,"  he  added, 
raising  his  voice ;  "  know  anybody  round  here 
named  Smithson  ?  " 

"  Nobody  but  that  queer  chap  that's  just  built, 
up  on  the  Hudson  place,"  answered  Jim,  lounging 
up  to  the  little  group.  "  Don't  you  know  the  one 
that  has  the  great  greenhouse  ?  come  up  here  last 
fall." 

"  That   must  be  the  one,"   said  Jack  eagerly. 

"  Please  tell  me  how  I  can  find  him,  and  I'll  make 

» 

it  worth  your  while,"  he  added,  with  a  fine  assump- 
tion of  being  a  man  of  the  world. 

But  Jim  drew  back. 

"  Don't  want  your  cash,  bub.  Chester  folks  are 
ready  to  do  a  stranger  a  good  turn  for  uothin', 


252  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

once  in  a  while.  Just  go  up  this  street  here,  till 
you  come  to  a  bank ;  then  turn  to  your  left  and 
keep  on  for  a  piece,  till  you  get  to  an  iron  water- 
ing-trough. Most  likely  you'll  see  some  yaller 
hens  in  the  road  there.  Then  turn  to  your  left 
again  and  go  through  a  stretch  of  woods,  and 
pretty  soon  you'll  come  to  the  place.  It's  a  great 
big  red  house  with  lots  of  corners,  not  a  farm- 
house, but  a  new-fangled  one  with  colored  glass 
and  things,  and  a  greenhouse  beside  it  larger'n  the 
house.  No ;  no  thanks."  And  he  walked  away, 
leaving  the  boys  to  set  off  on  their  wanderings. 

"  He  must  be  awfully  rich,"  said  Jack,  whose 
eyes  had  sparkled  at  the  description  of  the  mag- 
nificence in  which  his  hero  lived.  "  He'll  prob- 
ably have  a  butler,  or  a  footman,  or  something. 
I  'most  wish  we'd  hired  a  carriage  to  take  us, 
Dan." 

"  If  it's  as  far  as  that  man  said,  we  shall  wish 
we  had  a  carriage  to  bring  us  back,"  returned 
Danforth,  giving  a  rakish  poke  to  the,  dignified 
Alpine  hat,  which  replaced  the  cap  he  usually 
wore.  "  If  we  get  out  into  the  howling  wilder- 
ness, Jack,  where '11  we  get  anything  to  eat?  I'm 
about  starved  now,  and  I  never  can  stand  it  till 
night." 


BROTHER   JENKINS.  253 

"  Maybe  he'll  ask  us  to  stay  to  lunch,"  suggested 
Jack,  hopefully. 

On  they  went,  through  the  pleasant  old  town 
and  out  into  the  quiet  country  roads  beyond. 
Apart  from  the  excitement  of  their  errand,  it  was 
delightful  enough  to  be  out  in  the  air,  on  such  a 
day  as  this.  They  had  plenty  of  time  before  them, 
and  they  strolled  slowly  along,  pausing  now  and 
then  while  Danforth  took  a  snap  shot  at  some 
especially  attractive  bit  of  hill  or  wood,  or  Jack 
threw  aside  his  professional  dignity  long  enough 
to  leap  over  a  fence,  and  peer  into  the  depths  of 
the  little  brook  which  tumbled  and  raced  along 
by  the  roadside.  They  had  passed  the  watering- 
trough,  which  they  had  no  difficulty  in  recognizing 
from  the  yellow  hens  wandering  aimlessly  about 
it,  and  they  were  just  entering  the  little  patch  of 
woodland,  when  Jack  caught  the  sound  of  a  dis- 
tant jingle  of  bells. 

"  Say,  Dan,"  he  exclaimed ;  "  here  comes  a 
baker's  cart ;  see  if  'tisn't.  If  it  is,  I'm  going  to 
get  something  to  eat,  for  I  can't  stand  it  much 
longer.  We'll  have  time  to  eat  it,  before  we  get 
through  these  woods." 

"  Good  scheme,"  said  Danforth  approvingly. 
"What'llweget?" 


254  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"Doughnuts," responded  Jack  promptly;  "those 
great  round,  sugary  ones  that  Bob  says  are  so 
swinicky.  She'll  never  let  us  have  any,  and  I 
think  they're  fine.  Now's  our  chance." 

A  few  moments  later,  they  continued  their 
journey,  each  with  one  of  the  despised  delicacies 
in  his  hand,  while  Jack  carried  a  paper  bag  con- 
taining the  rest  of  the  half-dozen.  There  was 
something  so  irresponsible,  so  unexpected  in  their 
position,  it  was  such  fun  to  wander  along,  talking 
of  a  hundred  things  and  munching  their  dough- 
nuts, that  the  boys  determined  to  prolong  their 
enjoyment  as  much  as  possible.  They  were 
still  far  from  the  end  of  the  woods,  when  they 
were  startled  to  hear  a  violent  crashing  of  the 
underbrush.  The  next  minute,  a  young  man 
leaped  over  the  fence  into  the  road  before  them, 
and  paused,  as  if  waiting  for  the  boys  to  join 
him. 

"  Does  Mr.  Smithson  live  near  here  ? "  Jack 
asked,  by  way  of  opening  the  conversation,  for 
the  young  man  evidently  expected  them  to  speak. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  with  a  sudden  smile  ; 
"he  lives  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  here. 
Were  you  going  up  there  ?  " 

"  We   started   for   there,"    said   Jack,   nudging 


"Thank  you,  I'm  as  hungry  as  a  wolf." 
— Page  i.",ti. 


BROTHER    JENKINS.  255 

Danforth  to  call  his  brother's  attention  to  his 
politic  reply.  "  We  were  stopping  here  in  town 
for  a  few  hours,  and  so  we  thought  we'd  walk 
out  this  way." 

"  I'm  going  that  way,  myself,"  said  the  stranger 
quietly ;  "  and  I  can  show  you  where  he  lives. 
Do  you  know  him  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  we  know  his  books,"  said  Danforth, 
in  a  sudden  burst  of  enthusiasm  which  roused  him 
from  his  wonted  quiet. 

"  His  books  ? "  The  stranger  looked  a  little 
puzzled. 

"  Yes ;  he's  an  author,  you  know,  and  wrote 
Breeze  of  the  Prairie"  explained  Jack  kindly. 
"  It's  a  splendid  book,  too,  the  best  I  almost  ever 
read." 

"I've  heard  of  that,"  the  stranger  said,  with  a 
slight  air  of  embarrassment  which  Jack  attributed 
to  the  fact  of  his  never  having  read  the  great 
author's  great  book ;  "  but  I  supposed  —  at  least, 
I've  heard  that  he  hadn't  ever  written  anything 
else." 

"  Then  he'd  better,"  returned  Jack  indignantly. 
"A  man  who  can  write  stories  like  that,  ought 
to  keep  at  it  the  whole  time.  You  read  it  when 
you  get  a  chance.  But,  I  say,  won't  you  have  a 


256  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

doughnut?"  And  he  hospitably  extended  the 
bag. 

The  stranger  accepted  his  offer  gratefully. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  said  ;  "  Fin  as  hungry  as  a 
wolf,  for  I've  been  out  ever  since  breakfast,  and 
it  must  be  nearly  noon." 

As  they  walked  on,  from  time  to  time  Jack 
glanced  slyly  up  at  his  new  companion.  He 
was  a  tall,  slight  young  man,  not  more  than 
twenty-five  or  twenty-six  at  the  utmost,  with 
light  hair,  great  blue  eyes  and  a  complexion  as 
fresh  and  rosy  as  that  of  a  girl.  In  spite  of  his 
shabby  brown  suit  and  the  great  tin  box  which 
he  wore  slung  over  his  shoulder,  he  was  unmis- 
takably a  gentleman.  There  was  something  very 
attractive,  too,  in  his  easy,  off-hand  manner,  and 
he  soon  had  both  the  boys  talking  with  him,  as 
if  they  were  the  oldest  and  best  of  friends. 

"This  is  Mr.  Smithson's  house,"  he  said  at 
length,  pausing  at  the  gate  which  opened  upon 
a  broad,  rolling  lawn. 

"  This  ?  "  And  Jack  gazed  with  reverent  eyes 
upon  the  scene  before  him.  Then  he  looked  up 
at  the  young  man,  who  was  turning  in  at  the 
gate.  "  And  are  you  his  gardener  ?  "  he  asked, 
with  a  new  respect  in  his  tone. 


BROTHER   JENKINS.  257 

The  stranger  smiled  a  little. 

"  No  ;  not  exactly,"  he  answered  ;  "  but  I  live 
here  on  the  place.  Is  there  anything  more  I  can 
do  for  you  ?  " 

Before  Jack  could  beg  the  stranger  to  gain  him 
the  coveted  privilege  of  interviewing  the  author, 
a  man,  working  on  the  lawn,  had  come  up  to  the 
spot  where  they  were  standing. 

"  If  you  please,  Mr.  Smithson  —  "  he  was  begin- 
ning; but  Jack  heard  nothing  more.  He  could 
only  stare  at  the  stranger,  with  amazement  writ- 
ten on  every  line  of  his  face.  At  length  he  asked 
slowly,  — 

"  Are  you  the  real  Mr.  Smithson  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  I  am,"  confessed  the  stranger,  smil- 
ing at  the  boy's  surprise. 

"  The  one  that  wrote  Breeze  of  the  Prairie  ?  " 

"  The  very  one." 

Alas  for  Jack !  During  the  past  few  days,  he 
had  often  fancied  himself  brought  face  to  face 
with  his  idol,  had  fondly  pictured  the  ease  with 
which  he  would  open  the  interview,  the  graceful 
words  he  would  say.  Now  that  the  expected  mo- 
ment had  come  in  such  an  unexpected  fashion,  he 
could  only  stare  blankly  at  Mr.  Smithson  for  a 
seemingly  endless  interval,  and  then  ejaculate 
slowly,  — 


258  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

"  Great  Scott !  And  I  offered  you  a  doughnut, 
and  you  —  you  took  it !  " 

The  young  man  laughed. 

"  I  hope  you  don't  grudge  me  the  best  lunch 
I've  had,  in  many  a  long  day,"  he  said  gayly. 
"  I'll  own  that  I  -played  you  rather  a  shabby  trick  ; 
but  at  first  I  never  dreamed  that  you  Avanted  to 
see  me,  or  knew  anything  about  me.  Still,  'twas 
very  good  to  find  that  at  least  two  boys  like  my 
story,  and  wish  that  I  would  try  again.  Now 
come  up  to  the  house,  and  tell  me  what  you 
wanted  of  me." 

"  We  wanted  to  interview  you,"  explained  Jack, 
with  an  uncomfortable  feeling  that  he  was  not  ap- 
proaching the  subject  as  easily  as  he  had  expected 
to  do. 

Mr.  Smithson  looked  as  if  he  did  not  quite  un- 
derstand. He  was  used  to  reporters  and  their 
ways ;  but  even  the  dreaded  word  interview  did 
not  lead  him  to  connect  these  attractive  boys  with 
that  much-hated  race. 

"  To  —  what  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  To  interview  you.  We're  reporters,  you 
know,"  said  Jack,  producing  his  card  on  which 
he  had  written,  "  Editor  of  The  Riverton  Junior 
Review" 


BROTH  Eli   JENKINS.  259 

There  was  a  sudden,  almost  imperceptible  §tif- 
fening  of  the  author's  manner.  Then,  as  he  glanced 
at  the  card  in  his  hand,  he  smiled  again  in  his  old 
pleasant'  way. 

"  And  so  you  are  Mr.  John  Bennett  Spaulding," 
he  said ;  "  and  editor  of  The  Riverton  Junior  Re- 
view. I  don't  think  I  know  the  paper.  What  is 
it,  a  weekly?" 

"It  isn't,  yet,"  responded  Jack  honestly, 
although  he  shrank  from  the  admission,  fearing 
that  it  might  be  disadvantageous  to  the  coming 
interview.  "  It's  going  to  begin  next  Saturday, 
and  come  once  a  week.  We  wanted  to  have  an 
interview  with  you,  to  start  off  with.  This  is  my 
brother  Dan,"  he  added,  turning  to  Dan  forth,  who 
stood  gazing  at  Mr.  Smithson,  in  an  unconscious 
attitude  of  admiration  and  fear. 

"  And  you  were  going  to  serve  me  up  on  your 
camera  plate;  were  you?"  asked  Mr.  Smithson, 
as  he  gave  his  hand  to  the  boy.  "Now,"  he  went 
on,  while  he  led  the  way  to  the  piazza  and  settled 
his  guests  in  some  large  rocking-chairs  in  a  sunny 
corner ;  "  sit  down  here  and  tell  me  all  about  this. 
It's  an  immense  joke,  whatever  it  is  ;  and  I  want 
to  hear  about  it." 

And  Jack  told  him,  entering  with  boyish  enthu- 


260  MAKGAKET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

siasm  into  the  details  of  his  press,  his  prospective 
paper  and  his  plan  of  interviewing  their  genial 
host;  while  Mr.  Smithson  leaned  back  in  his  chair, 
and  laughed  till  the  tears  came  into  his  eyes,  with 
his  enjoyment  of  the  caper. 

"  Suppose  we  make  a  bargain,"  he  said  at  last. 
"  I've  never  yet  been  interviewed,  and  I've  always 
said  that  I  never  would  be.  What  if  we  leave  it 
this  way  :  you  stay  here  to  lunch  with  my  mother 
and  me  ;  and,  before  you  go,  I'll  write  just  a  little 
scrap  of  something  for  your  first  paper,  on  condi- 
tion that  you  won't  say  anything  about  me,  —  ex- 
cept to  say  that  you  came  here  to  lunch  with  me," 
he  added,  seeing  Jack's  sudden  look  of  disappoint- 
ment. "  But  don't  say  anything  else,  please. 
Only,"  he  laughed  again,  "you  must  count  me  as 
one  of  your  regular  subscribers.  But  come  in  and 
see  my  mother."  And  he  led  the  way  into  the 
house. 

A  week  later,  the  opening  number  of  The  River- 
ton  Junior  Review  made  its  appearance.  Its  first 
page  bore,  in  the  place  of  honor,  a  rhymed  greet- 
ing to  the  new  periodical,  signed  with  the  well- 
known  name.  Beneath  it  was  a  short  note, 
informing  the  public  that  the  little  poem  was 
written  by  Mr.  Smithson,  the  last  time  that  the 


BROTHER   JENKINS.  261 

editors  had  the  pleasure  of  taking  lunch  with  him, 
in  his  own  house.  A  marked  copy  of  The  Review 
went  flying  down  to  Chester,  by  the  earliest  pos- 
sible mail,  and  appeared  to  Mr.  Smithson  just  as 
he  was  leaving  the  breakfast-table,  for  a  long 
morning  in  his  library. 

"  Jove ! "  he  said,  with  a  laugh,  as  he  read 
Jack's  letter  which  accompanied  it.  "  That  boy 
has  the  go-ahead  in  him,  and  he'll  make  something, 
some  day.  'Twas  almost  too  bad  to  put  him  on 
his  honor  about  showing  me  up ;  and  it  would 
have  been  good  fun  to  see  what  he'd  say.  I 
believe  I'll  turn  the  tables,  and  write  him  up,  — 
only  I  could  never  do  him  justice.  I  wish  I  could 
be  sure  that  all  my  public  liked  my  first  attempt 
as  well  as  he  did."  And  he  whistled  gayly  to 
himself,  as  he  sat  down  and  took  up  his  pen. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 
DANFORTH'S  ROMANCE. 

"  WILL  you  be  good  enough  to  tell  me  what 
you're  up  to,  Dan  ?  "  asked  Bobbie's  voice  at  the 
kitchen  door. 

Danforth  started  violently,  nearly  dropping  the 
flatiron  from  his  hand,  while  the  color  rushed  to 
his  face. 

"  I'm  busy,"  he  answered  curtly.  "  I  wish 
you'd  go  away." 

Bobbie  pushed  the  door  wide  open  and  came 
in. 

"What  in  the  world  —  ?"  she  began  slowly. 

"Can't  you  see  for  yourself?"  he  responded 
impatiently.  "  The  crease  is  all  out  of  my  trous- 
ers, and  I'm  trying  to  put  it  back  in  again. 
Nothing  strange  in  that ;  is  there  ? " 

Bobbie   gave  one  comprehensive  glance  at  the 

garment  on  the  table,  at  the  fast-cooling  iron  in 

Danforth's   hand   and   at  the    dark   red   flush  on 

Danforth's  cheeks.     Then  she  burst  out  laughing 

262 


DAKFORTH'S  ROMANCE.  2G3 

and  ran  away  out  of  the  room.  Five  minutes 
later,  she  knocked  at  Margaret's  door. 

"Oh,  Miss  Davis,  Miss  Davis!  "she  exclaimed, 
as  soon  as  she  was  admitted.  "  What  do  you 
think?  Dan's  caught  it  at  last." 

"  Caught  it ! "  echoed  Margaret,  while  there 
rushed  into  her  mind  direful  visions  of  scarlet- 
fever  or  small-pox. 

"  Yes,  I  know  now.  He's  in  love ! "  And 
Bobbie  dropped  into  a  chair  and  nodded  conclu- 
sivel}'. 

"  What  nonsense,  Bobbie  !  Dan  is  nothing  but 
a  child." 

"  I  don't  care,"  responded  Bobbie  coolly.  "  I 
know  what  I  know,  and  you'll  think  so  too, 
when  I  tell  you.  He's  in  love,  and  it's  with 
Pen." 

"  Bobbie  dear,  I'd  rather  you  didn't  talk"  about 
such  things,"  said  Margaret  quite  decidedly. 
"  Dan  and  Penelope  are  good  friends,  just  as  you 
and  Ellie  are ;  but  people  don't  get  in  love  at 
fifteen,  and  you  know  that  Dan  forth  would  be 
very  angry,  if  he  heard  what  you  are  saying." 

"  I  can't  help  that,"  persisted  Bobbie.  "  It's 
true,  every  word  of  it,  as  true  as  true  can  be. 
Now  you  see  here,  I've  kept  still  ever  so  long, 


264  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

and  now  I  must  talk.  You'd  rather  I'd  say  it  to 
you  than  to  Dan.  What's  the  harm?  I  think 
it's  just  lovely,  only  I  like  to  plague  them  about 
it  a  little." 

Margaret  made  no  reply,  so,  after  a  short  pause, 
Bobbie  went  on,— 

"  It's  been  going  on  for  ever  so  long.  That 
Christmas  fire  'started  it  up,  I  suppose.  I  didn't 
think  much  about  it,  at  first.  I  knew  Dan  was 
there  ever  so  much  ;  but  I  s'posed  it  was  so  he 
could  take  Pen's  picture.  Then  Dan  began  to 
act  queer,  and  I  kept  my  eyes  open.  He  used 
to  wear  his  best  suit  every  day ;  and  wouldn't 
ever  put  on  his  cap,  but  wore  his  hat  the  whole 
time.  When  Grandma  sent  him  on  an  errand, 
he  always  went  round  by  High  Street,  no  matter 
how  much  of  a  hurry  he  was  in.  Then  his  hair 
began  to  look  dark  and  sort  of  shiny;  and,  one 
day.  I  found  my  bottle  of  violet  hidden  in  his 
bureau  drawer.  Now,  to-day,  I've  just  found  him 
all  alone  in  the  kitchen,  trying  to  iron  some  new 
creases  into  his  trouser  legs."  And  Bobbie  paused 
to  laugh  again  at  the  recollection.  "  Well,  all 
this  showed  something  was  going  on ;  but  I 
wasn't  just  sure,  till  a  day  or  two  ago.  You 
know  that  pretty  bracelet  Pen  had  Christmas, 


DANFOETH'S  ROMANCE.  265 

the  dark  silver  one  ?  All  at  once  she  stopped 
wearing  it;  and  when  I  asked  her  where  'twas, 
she  just  blushed  and  wouldn't  say  a  word.  Night 
before  last,  when  Dan  was  frolicking  with  me,  I 
looked  up  his  sleeve,  and  there  was  Pen's  bracelet, 
way  up  inside  his  cuff.  Now  what  do  you  think?" 
she  concluded  triumphantly. 

"  Think  ?  I  think  that  you  are  an  excellent 
detective,"  said  Margaret  lightly,  although  she 
was  secretly  amused  by  Bobbie's  ferreting  out  the 
mystery  which  she  had  long  since  suspected. 

"  And  then  there's  something  else,"  added 
Bobbie,  with  a  fresh  laugh.  "  This  time  it's  Pen. 
Five  or  six  of  us  walked  down  the  river,  a  week 
or  two  ago,  you  know.  I  didn't  see  much  of 
either  Dan  or  Pen,  for  I  was  ahead,  with  Jack 
and  Charlie  Prentiss ;  but,  coming  home,  Pen 
came  rushing  after  me  and  caught  hold  of  my 
arm.  Her  face  was  as  red  as  could  be,  and  she 
looked  all  swelled  up,  ready  to  cry;  but  'twas 
ever  so  long  before  she'd  say  anything.  By  and 
by  she  began  in  a  queer  voice,  as  if  the  words 
were  a  good  deal  larger  round  than  her  throat, 
'  Bobbie,'  —  no,  I  remember ;  she  said  '  Roberta.' 
She  never  calls  me  Roberta,  unless  something  is 
very  much  wrong.  Well,  she  said,  '  Roberta,  I 


266  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

want  to  ask  you  something.'  Then  she  stopped 
and  puffed,  like  this."  Bobbie  illustrated  Penel- 
ope's agitation,  with  unsympathetic  amusement. 
"  Then  she  went  ahead,  '  I  want  to  ask  you  some- 
thing a  friend  of  mine  wanted  to  know;  'tisn't 
for  me,  you  know,  but  for  this  friend.  If  a  lady 
insults  a  gentleman,  ought  she  to  apologize,  or 
ought  she  to  wait  and  make  him  ? '  Wasn't  that 
the  gi^atest  idea?  I  told  her  that  her  friend 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of  herself  for  not  having 
any  more  sense.  Then  she  flared  up,  and  said 
I  was  mean  as  mean  could  be.  I  didn't  know 
what  she  meant  then ;  but  Dan  came  home  sulky 
as  anything,  and  blue  as  your  gown,  and  Ellie 
said  they'd  been  having  a  perfectly  dreadful 
fight."  Bobbie's  tone  was  darkly  suggestive  of 
dirks  and  cutlasses.  "  They  must  have  made  it 
up  in  a  hurry,  though,  for  Dan  was  there  the 
next  day.  But  wasn't  he  glum,  that  night!  I 
believe  I'll  go  and  see  if  he's  finished  his  ironing." 
And  she  went  away  as  abruptly  as  she  had  come. 

Much  to  her  regret,  Margaret  was  forced  to 
agree  with  Bobbie's  conclusions,  though  she 
smiled  to  herself,  as  she  thought  of  the  premises 
upon  which  they  were  based.  For  the  past  two 
or  three  months,  in  fact,  ever  since  Christmas, 


DANFORTH  S    ROMANCE.  2G7 

she  had  been  surprised  to  see  Danforth's  increas- 
ing devotion  to  Penelope ;  and  she  had  been  the 
more  astonished  at  it,  because  heretofore  Danforth, 
partly  from  shyness,  partly  from  indifference, 
had  always  treated  Bobbie's  girl  friends  with 
supreme  contempt.  Moreover,  Pen  was  not  at 
all*  the  girl  whom  it  seemed  likely  that  Danforth 
would  fancy,  her  irrepressible  words  and  ways 
were  so  contrary  to  his  own  quiet  gentleness. 

At  first,  Margaret  had  -rejoiced  in  the  new 
friendship,  for  she  found  that  it  was  giving  Dan- 
forth an  ease  and  assurance  which  he  had  always 
lacked,  while  his  overflowing  spirits  testified  to  his 
own  enjoyment  of  the  unwonted  interest.  How- 
ever, she  discovered  that,  little  by  little,  his  les- 
sons were  beginning  to  suffer  from  his  absorption 
in  Penelope  ;  and,  as  week  after  week  went  by, 
he  slowly  dropped  behind  Jack  who  was  working 
finely,  spurred  on  by  the  approach  of  June  and 
the  long-talked-of  preliminaries. 

It  was  hard  to  know  just  where  lay  the  real 
trouble  and  its  remedy.  Danforth  worked  his  full 
time;  but  it  was  in  a  listless,  half-hearted  fashion, 
quite  different  from  his  previous  enthusiasm,  and 
he  took  all  of  Margaret's  little  lectures  and  rebukes 
with  a  most  exemplary  meekness.  Still,  she  was  at 


268  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

her  wit's  end,  for  she  disliked  to  appeal  to  Uncle 
Jerry,  knowing  but  too  well  that  such  a  course 
could  only  lessen  Danforth's  liking  for  her,  and 
her  consequent  influence  over  him.  Exhortation 
and  command  had  no  effect,  beyond  the  moment 
of  their  being  uttered ;  and,  meanwhile,  Danforth 
was  steadily  dropping  backward.  What  was*to 
be  done? 

Moreover,  she  had  noticed  the  new  desire  to 
beautify  himself,  of  which  Bobbie  had  spoken. 
In  an  older  man,  she  would  not  have  been  slow 
to  attribute  it  to  its  proper  cause ;  but  it  seemed 
impossible  that  Danforth,  her  shy,  shrinking  boy, 
could  be  already  emerging  from  his  chrysalis  and 
entering  upon  one  of  the  phases  of  the  full-grown 
butterfly.  She  dismissed  the  thought  as  absurd, 
and  yet  it  was  true,  painfully  true.  Even  Bobbie 
had  recognized  the  fact. 

For  the  next  week  or  two,  Margaret  watched 
the  boy  closely.  Except  for  the  increasing  neg- 
lect of  his  lessons,  it  seemed  to  her  that  he  had 
never  before  been  half  so  lovable,  for  in  addition 
to  the  old,  gentle,  winning  ways  which  she  knew 
so  well,  there  was  a  new  brightness  and  fun  that 
she  had  never  seen  until  now.  Pen  was  evi- 
dently stirring  him  up ;  but  unfortunately  she 


DANFOETH'S  ROMANCE.  269 

was,  at  the  same  time,  ruining  his  chances  for 
passing  a  creditable  examination,  and  Margaret 
felt  that  it  was  time  for  her  to  interfere.  Accord- 
ingly, one  noon  after  Jack  and  Bobbie  had  left 
the  library,  she  told  Danforth  that,  for  the  present, 
she  should  give  him  an  hour  of  work,  each  after- 
noon. The  boy  faced  her  abruptly,  with  a  little 
hurt  look  in  his  blue  eyes. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Miss  Davis  ! "  he  asked 
quickly.  "  Won't  my  work  go  as  'tis  ?  " 

"  Not  quite,  Dan,"  she  answered.  "  You've 
been  running  behind  a  little,  and  I  want  to  go 
over  some  of  this  last  work,  to  make  sure  that 
you're  all  right.  You  can't  afford  to  run  any 
risks  ;  and  we  can  both  take  the  time  well  enough. 
A  few  weeks  will  straighten  you  out  again." 

For  a  moment,  Danforth  looked  at  her  doubt- 
fully ;  then  he  said  reluctantly,  — 

"  All  right ;  only  I  don't  think  I  need  the  extra 
time.  I'm  getting  on  well  enough,  as  'tis ;  and 
I  can  work  a  little  harder,  mornings,  if  you  want." 

"  I  think  the  afternoons  will  be  better,  Dan," 
she  answered,  in  a  tone  of  quiet  decision  which 
she  rarely  used. 

And  so  it  came  about  that  Margaret  and 
Danforth  took  possession  of  the  library,  for  an 


270  MAKGAHET   DAVIS,    TUTOIl. 

hour  each  afternoon,  and  devoted  the  time  to  a 
thorough  review  of  the  work  of  the  past  few 
weeks.  It  was  the  best  training  that  the  boy 
could  have  had ;  but  he  failed  to  accept  it  in  all 
gratitude,  since  it  shortened  his  afternoon  calls 
on  Penelope,  and  kept  him  at  work  when  his 
friends  were  all  taking  their  recreation.  It  was 
particularly  hard,  in  the  warm,  tempting  days 
of  early  spring  when  the  others  were  all  off  on 
some  ride  or  walk ;  and  as  the  days  went  by, 
Danforth's  face  grew  longer  and  longer,  and  his 
hours  grew  shorter  and  shorter.  But  if  it  was 
hard  for  the  boy,  it  was  harder  still  for  Margaret, 
since  she  saw  so  plainly  all  his  side  of  the  matter, 
all  the  causes  which  had  tempted  him  to  neglect 
his  work.  At  length,  one  day  just  before  Easter, 
came  the  final  issue.  Margaret  had  gone  to  her 
room,  directly  after  lunch,  when  she  heard  Dan- 
forth's step  in  the  hall.  A  moment  later,  he 
knocked  at  her  door. 

"  Come  in,  Dan,"  she  said  hospitably,  as  she 
opened  the  door. 

"  I  can't ;  I'm  in  a  hurry,"  he  answered  ner- 
vously. "I  —  I  came  to  see  if  you  wouldn't  let 
me  off  this  afternoon." 

"But  I   told  you  I  couldn't,  Dan,"  she  said, 


DANFOETH'S  ROMANCE.  271 

trying  to  speak  quietly,  though  she  saw,  from  the 
set  look  of  Danforth's  lips,  that  at  last  she  was  to 
engage  in  a  contest  of  will  with  her  favorite 
pupil.  "You  know  you  asked  me  yesterday, 
and  I  told  you  then  that  you  would  have  to  take 
your  regular  work." 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Margaret  was  the 
first  to  break  it. 

"  What  is  it  that  you  want  to  do  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  wanted  to  take  Pen  Stoddard  for  a  drive," 
he  answered  desperately,  while  his  color  rose 
at  the  admission.  "  Uncle  Jerry  is  going  to  sell 
Duke,  this  spring,  and  I  may  not  have  another 
chance.  He's  likely  to  go,  any  day." 

"  Have  you  made  an  engagement  with  Penel- 
ope ? "  inquired  Margaret  slowly.  "  I  thought 
you  knew  that  you  were  to  have  your  usual  hour." 

"'Tisn't  a  real  engagement,"  Danforth  replied. 
"  I  only  wanted  to  go." 

There  was  another  prolonged  silence.  This 
time  Danforth  spoke  first. 

"What  if  I  don't  come?"  he  asked. 

Margaret  hesitated.  She  disliked  to  give  in ; 
and  any  appeal  to  Uncle  Jerry  to  uphold  her 
authority,  would  be  childish,  she  felt.  She  could 
read  the  boy  well  enough  to  see  that  he  was  fully 


272  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

determined  to  go ;  but  that  he  could  not  be  quite 
satisfied  to  do  so  without  her  consent.  She  looked 
out  at  the  clear,  yellow  sunshine,  and  her  heart 
urged  her  to  relent;  then  she  remembered  that 
this  was  not  a  question  of  to-day  or  to-morrow 
but  of  Danforth's  whole  future  ability  to  deny 
himself,  if  need  be,  and  she  hardened  her  heart. 

"  You  are  not  a  baby,  Dan,"  she  said  slowly,  as 
she  looked  straight  into  his  great  blue  eyes ; 
"and  you  know,  as  well  as  I  do,  that  I  have  no 
real  authority  over  you.  You  know,  too,  how  I 
feel  about  this.  You  must  do  as  you  think  best, 
only  remember  that  I  absolutely  disapprove  of 
your  going." 

The  pause  which  followed  was  a  critical  one. 
Each  was  conscious  of  the  tension  of  the  other's 
mood,  and  each,  while  secretly  resolving  not  to 
yield,  yet  felt  uncertain  how  the  contest  would 
end.  Danforth  had  set  his  face  as  rigidly  as 
he.  could,  but  his  chin  was  quivering  a  little. 
Unwilling  as  he  was  to  give  in,  it  was  hurting 
him  more  than  he  had  supposed  it  would,  to 
oppose  Margaret's  wishes  and  incur  her  dis- 
approval. As  she  watched  him,  Margaret  felt  a 
nervous  desire  to  laugh  and  cry  at  the  same  time, 
to  laugh  at  the  mock  seriousness  of  this  tempest 


DANFORTH'S  ROMANCE.  273 

in  a  teapot,  to  cry  with  a  childish  disappointment 
in  her  lack  of  influence  over  the  boy.  It  seemed 
as  if  he  would  never  speak.  At  length  he  asked 
a  little  impatiently,  — 

"  What  difference  does  this  one  day  make,  Miss 
Davis  ?  There  are  plenty  more  coming." 

"  It  isn't  just  for  to-day,"  she  answered  gently ; 
"only,  if  you  give  up,  to-day,  and  run  off  when 
you  ought  to  be  working,  it  will  be  just  so  much 
harder  to  begin  again  to-morrow.  You  are, making 
up  now  for  time  when  you  have  been  doing  half- 
work  ;  and  you  know  I  told  you  that  I  must  have 
this  afternoon  hour,  so  that  I  can  get  you  back 
even  with  Jack,  before  I  go  home  at  Easter.  If 
you  give  up  to-day,  and  another  to-day,  and  still 
another,  it  will  surely  end  in  your  losing  your 
year.  I  have  told  you  just  what  I  think ;  now  I 
can  only  leave  it  to  your  sense  of  right." 

Still  the  shut  teeth,  but  the  quivering  chin,  as 
Danforth  looked  at  the  floor,  at  the  walls,  at  the 
folds  of  Margaret's  gown,  everywhere  but  at  her 
face  which,  in  spite  of  the  anxious  light  in  her 
eyes,  never  once  lost  its  friendly  smile.  Then,  all 
of  a  sudden,  he  looked  her  full  in  the  face,  as  he 
said  unsteadily,  — 

"I  think  I'll  risk  it." 


274  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

"  Very  well,"  she  replied,  although  with  a  surety 
that  it  was  not  very  well,  that  the  battle  was  lost 
for  both  sides. 

She  stood  on  the  threshold,  watching  the  boy  as 
he  went  down  the  stairs.  There  was  nothing  about 
him  to  suggest  the  victor ;  he  was  much  more  like 
the  vanquished,  for  complete  and  utter  dejection 
was  written  on  every  line  of  his  face  and  figure. 
His  conscience  was  not  active  enough  to  make 
him  yield  a  point ;  but  it  was  sufficiently  active  to 
render  him  extremely  uncomfortable,  now  that  his 
point  was  gained. 

Danforth  was  unusually  silent  and  grave  when 
he  appeared  at  the  dinner-table,  that  night, 
although  Margaret's  manner  to  him  was  quite  as 
if  nothing  unusual  had  occurred ;  and,  for  the  first 
time,  he  failed  to  join  the  others  in  the  library, 
later,  when  they  were  reveling  in  the  Van  Bibber 
sketches.  Jack  was  reading,  that  night ;  but 
Margaret  heard  little  of  the  charming  stories,  for 
her  thoughts  were  with  her  other  boy,  wondering 
whether  to  keep  up  her  unconcerned  manner,  or 
to  say  a  word  or  two,  and  then  dismiss  the  affair 
into  the  past.  She  knew  Danforth  well  enough 
to  see  that  already  he  was  feeling  ashamed  of 
himself.  It  would  doubtless  be  good  discipline 


DANFORTH'S  ROMANCE.  275 

for  him  to  let  him  suffer  the  pangs  of  remorse  for 
a  little  longer.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  she  dis- 
liked to  do  anything  to  hurt  the  sensitive  boy; 
and  she  was  unwilling  to  allow  their  warm  friend- 
ship to  be  scarred  by  a  longer  coldness  between 
them.  After  all,  perhaps  the  victory  was  on  her 
side  ;  she  felt  that  she  could  afford  to  be  magnani- 
mous. 

She  saw  little  of  Danforth  during  the  evening. 
When  she  and  Jack  went  back  into  the  drawing- 
room,  Danforth  had  gone  up  into  the  Wilderness ; 
and  although  he  reappeared  later,  he  took  up  a 
book  and  apparently  buried  himself  in  its  pages, 
though  she  was  conscious  that  he  was  watching 
her  out  of  the  corners  of  his  eyes,  while  she  played 
bdzique  with  Jack.  Earlier  than  usual  he  started 
up,  book  in  hand,  bade  them  all  goodnight  and  left 
the  room.  Half-way  up  the  stairs,  he  heard 
Margaret  speak  his  name. 

"  Well  ? "  he  said  reluctantly,  as  he  turned  to 
face  her. 

She  slowly  went  up  to  him,  and  sat  down  on 
the  stair  below  him. 

"  Come,  Dan,"  she  said ;  "  don't  go  off  to  bed 
just  yet.  It  isn't  time ;  and  besides,  I  want  to 
make  up,  first." 


276  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

This  was  unexpected,  and  Danforth's  face 
showed  his  surprise.  Then  he  controlled  him- 
self, and  dropped  back  into  his  old  indifferent 
manner.  At  heart,  he  longed  to  respond  to  her 
friendly  advances ;  but  the  very  intensity  of  his 
feeling  made  it  hard  to  speak  out.  His  face  only 
grew  more  and  more  grim,  as  he  asked  briefly,— 

"Make  up  what?" 

"  I  think  you  know  what  I  mean,"  she  answered 
gently.  "  You  were  vexed  because  I  wouldn't 
let  you  off  this  afternoon ;  isn't  it  so  ?  You 
haven't  been  like  yourself,  ever  since  you  came 
home ;  and  you  were  running  off  to  bed,  to  get 
out  of  sight  of  me.  Come,  Dan,"  and  she  held 
out  her  hand ;  "  we've  been  too  good  friends  to 
quarrel,  and  the  longer  this  goes  on,  the  harder 
it  will  be  to  end  it ;  so  let's  shake  hands  on  it, 
say  there's  been  a  mistake  somewhere,  and  then 
forget  all  about  it  and  begin  again." 

Her  look  and  manner  were  not  to  be  resisted, 
and  Danforth's  coldness  suddenly  melted,  as  he 
dropped  down  on  the  stairs  at  her  side,  and  seized 
her  hand  in  a  grip  which  nearly  forced  a  cry  from 
her  lips. 

"  I  was  mad,  Miss  Davis,  for  I  wanted  to  go 
like  fun ;  and  I'd  promised  Pen  I'd  take  her.  I 


DANFORTH'S  ROMANCE.  277 

thought  then  that  you  hadn't  any  business  to 
keep  me  in,  and  I  wasn't  going  to  knock  under; 
but,"  he  hesitated ;  then  he  added,  in  a  lower 
tone,  "  but  I  about  came  to  the  conclusion,  while 
I  was  gone,  that  I  hadn't  any  business  to  go.  I 
am  sorry,  truly ;  and  another  time,  you  can  count 
on  me." 

It  is  always  hard  for  a  boy  to  acknowledge  him- 
self in  the  wrong,  and  Margaret  realized  all  that 
this  avowal  was  costing  Danforth.  The  stairway, 
where  they  sat,  was  too  dark  to  allow  her  to  see 
his  face  clearly ;  but  his  voice  and  the  little  hesi- 
tation in  his  manner  told  of  the  difficulty  he  was 
having  in  confessing  his  small  sin.  Margaret 
found  it  hard  to  add  one  word  of  rebuke,  for  this 
short  contest  had  taught  her  how  dear  the  boy 
was  to  her. 

"  Dan,"  she  said  slowly,  as  she  rested  one  hand 
on  his  shoulder  ;  "  I  did  what  I  thought  was  best 
for  you,  and  the  doing  it  hurt  me  more  than  it 
did  you,  for  I  knew  just  how  you  wanted  to  go. 
But  lessons  have  to  come  first,  dear,  whether  it's 
before  we  go  into  college,  or  after  we  come  out, 
and  I  felt  that  I'd  no  right  to  let  you  shirk, 
to-day,  when  it  might  make  a  difference  to  your 
whole  life.  You've  been  falling  from  grace  a 


278  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

little,  the  last  month  or  two,  and  we've  both  of 
us  had  to  work  to  make  it  up.  Now  we're  nearly 
ready  to  start  fair  and  square  again,  and  I  mustn't 
be  disappointed  in  you.  'You  haven't  much  idea, 
Dan,  how  many  hopes  and  plans  for  your  man- 
hood I  am  making.  If  you'll  do  your  part,  they 
can  all  be  carried  out,  and  my  dear  old  Dan  will 
be  a  man  of  whom  I  shall  be  proud,  some  day. 
Now  let's  turn  our  backs  on  the  past,  and  on 
to-day's  horrid  little  disagreement,  and  look  at 
the  future  and  work  toward  it,  like  true  men 
and  women,  sure  that  every  day  of  real,  faithful 
work  will  bring  the  goal  nearer  and  still  nearer 
us." 

Through  the  dim  light,  she  could  see  Danforth's 
eyes  fixed  upon  her  face,  and  his  own  face  was 
very  serious  and  gentle,  as  he  said,  — 

"I  will  try,  Miss  Davis.  I  know  I've  been 
acting  like  a  jay;  but  honestly,  you  won't  have 
any  more  trouble  of  that  kind.  Give  me  another 
chance,  and  I'll  start  fresh." 

"What  are  you  doing,  mooning  there  on  the 
stairs  ? "  called  Jack  from  below.  "  I  thought 
you'd  gone  to  bed  an  hour  ago,  Dan.  Come 
ahead ;  I'm  sleepy." 

Two  days  later,  Bobbie  came   into   Margaret's 


DANFORTH'S  ROMANCE.  279 

room,   with   excitement  and  mystery   written   on 
every  feature. 

"  They've  had  another  dreadful  quarrel,"  she 
announced,  without  further  preface.  "It  was 
day  before  yesterday,  when  Dan  was  taking  her 
to  ride  I  don't  know  what's  happened;  but 
Dan's  given  back  her  bracelet,  and  Pen  says 
she  doesn't  mean  to  speak  to  him  again,  forever 
and  ever,  because  he's  a  stupid  and  a  Miss  Nancy. 
I  told  her  that  Dan  was  a  great  deal  too  good  for 
her,  and  if  she  didn't  speak  to  him,  I  wouldn't 
speak  to  her,  so  there !  But  what  do  you  think 
could  have  happened?  Seems  to  me  I  can't  stand 
it,  unless  I  find  out.  Pen  Stoddard  knows  what 
I  think  of  her,  though ;  and  that's  one  comfort ! " 


CHAPTER   XV. 

"FACILIS   DESCENSUS   AVERNI." 

HUGH  THORNTON  sat  musing  by  the  fire  in  his 
room,  one  evening  early  in  April.  A  gentle 
shower  was  pattering  down  on  the  piazza  roof 
outside  his  window,  and  the  monotonous,  dreary 
sound  made  a  most  suitable  background  for  his 
thoughts,  since  his  mood  was  as  gloomy  as  the 
night  outside.  That  afternoon,  he  had  chanced 
to  meet  Margaret  on  the  street,  and  she  had  given 
him  a  bow  so  chilling  that,  as  soon  as  she  had 
passed  him,  he  had  involuntarily  turned  up  his 
collar  and  plunged  his  hands  deep  down  into 
his  pockets.  Now,  for  an  hour,  he  had  been  sit- 
ting with  his  book  closed  on  his  knee,  while  he 
viciously  gnawed  his  mustache  and  scowled  at  the 
open  fire.  He  was  fond  of  that  fire,  too.  In  fact, 
it  had  been  one  of  the  chief  reasons  for  his  choos- 
ing the  room,  but  to-night  it  seemed  uncommonly 
fractious.  It  persisted  in  smoking  at  intervals, 
while,  in  spite  of  his  efforts,  the  sticks  on  the 
280 


"FACILIS   DESCENSUS   AVEENI."  281 

andirons  refused  to  lie  cris-crossing  at  the  proper 
angle,  but  packed  themselves  into  a  firm,  solid 
pile  which  was  death  to  a  cheery  blaze.  He  had 
promised  to  dine  with  his  cousin,  Mrs.  Pierson, 
that  night ;  but  when  dinner-time  came,  he  had 
not  found  himself  in  a  mood  to  be  an  agreeable 
guest,  so  he  had  sent  a  messenger  boy  with  a 
note  of  apology  for  his  non-appearance,  and  dined 
alone  instead.  It  was  the  first  time,  for  nearly  a 
year,  that  he  had  allowed  himself  to  stop  and 
think  just  how  miserable  he  was ;  and  now  that 
he  was  deliberately  giving  himself  up  to  the  con- 
templation of  his  woes,  he  began  to  think  that 
he  had  never  before  half  realized  how  great  they 
were. 

"It's  a  beastly  place  to  put  me  in,"  he  was  say- 
ing to  himself.  "  Here  I  am,  likely  to  meet  her 
any  minute ;  there's  no  chance  of  missing  her, 
in  this  two-inch  hole  of  a  town.  'Twasn't  enough 
for  her  to  flirt  with  me  and  then  drop  me ;  but 
she  had  to  come  up  here  after  me.  No ;  come  to 
think  of  it,  she  was  in  ahead  of  me,  and  I  followed 
her."  And  he  laughed  at  his  own  inconsistency. 
"But  \vhy,  in  the  name  of  all  the  laws  of  chance, 
did  we  ever  happen  to  strike  Riverton  at  the 
same  time?  I  should  as  soon  have  thought  of 


282  MAKGAEET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

finding  her  in  Patagonia,  as  over  at  Atherton's, 
that  night.  I  wonder  what  sent  her  up  here, 
anyway.  However,  that  something  I'm  not  likely 
to  find  out.  If  she  were  a  man,  I  could  ask  her, 
point  blank,  what  she  meant  by  treating  me  like 
a  worn-out  pair  of  shoes ;  but  you  can't  do  that 
kind  of  thing  with  a  woman.  If  I  dared "  — 
He  rose  and  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  still 
venting  his  impatience  upon  his  long-suffering 
mustache.  At  length  he  stopped  abruptly,  as  he 
said  aloud,  "By  Jove,  I'll  do  it,  and  take  the 
consequences." 

The  next  day  was  one  of  the  most  perfect  days 
of  early  spring,  and  Gerald  came  home  to  lunch, 
declaring  that  it  was  a  disgrace  to  anyone  to  stay 
in  the  house,  in  such  weather  as  that,  they  must 
all  go  for  a  long  drive  together.  As  invariably 
happened,  Gerald's  will  carried  all  obstacles  before 
it,  and  shortly  after  two  o'clock,  the  great,  three- 
seated  carriage  was  driven  up  to  the  door.  Grand- 
pa and  Grandma  Atherton  were  snugly  packed 
away  on  the  back  seat,  Margaret  and  Danforth 
took  the  middle  and  Bobbie  settled  herself  in  her 
usual  place  at  her  uncle's  side.  Then  there  came 
a  sudden  inquiry  for  Jack ;  but  Jack,  strange  to 
say,  was  nowhere  to  be  found. 


"FACILIS   DESCENSUS    AVERNI.S  283 

"  We  can't  wait  any  longer,"  said  Uncle  Jerry, 
after  they  had  searched  and  called  in  vain.  "  He 
knew  we  were  going ;  and  if  he  isn't  here,  that's 
his  look-out."  And  gathering  up  the  reins,  he 
drove  down  the  hill,  out  into  the  road  and  then 
northward,  up  the  valley. 

Quarter  of  an  hour  later,  Jack  cautiously 
emerged  from  the  hay-loft  of  the  barn  whither, 
for  reasons  of  his  own,  he  had  retired  directly 
after  lunch.  It  had  not  suited  Jack's  convenience 
to  go  to  drive,  that  afternoon,  although  he  was 
perfectly  contented  to  have  the  others  go  and 
leave  him  alone,  for  he  had  important  business 
on  hand,  and  he  had  no  wish  to  be  interrupted. 
Two  days  before  this,  Bobbie  had  run  off  with 
his  silver  penholder,  and  refused  to  give  it  up 
until  he  promised  to  get  one  like  it  for  her. 
To-day,  Jack  had  resolved  to  take  justice  into  his 
own  hands  by  rummaging  among  her  possessions 
until  he  found  it.  Then,  if  there  were  any  time 
left,  he  promised  himself  the  pleasure  of  rearrang- 
ing her  bureau  drawers  for  her,  a  favorite  employ- 
ment of  his,  whenever  Bobbie  had  been  particularly 
exasperating. 

It  had  cost  him  something  to  give  up  the  drive, 
that  day,  to  watch  the  others  starting  off  without 


284  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

him  and  to  know  that,  if  he  chose,  he  could  have 
a  place  on  the  front  seat  and,  perhaps,  drive  the 
span,  after  their  spirits  had  quieted  down  a  little. 
Still,  justice  was  justice  and  must  triumph,  so  he 
resolutely  refused  to  answer  their  calls;  but,  as 
soon  as  they  were  well  out  of  sight,  he  had 
climbed  down  from  the  fragrant  loft  and  marched 
toward  the  house,  to  wreak  vengeance  upon  Bobbie. 
To  his  extreme  surprise,  he  found  the  back  door 
closed  and  locked.  Unknown  to  him,  Grandma 
Atherton  had  given  both  the  maids  permission  to 
go  out  for  the  afternoon ;  and  the  old  house  was 
quite  deserted,  except  for  Jack  who  wandered  up 
and  down,  as  anxious  to  enter  as  any  prowling 
thief,  and  as  powerless.  In  vain  he  tried  the  front 
door,  the  side  door,  the  hall  window.  Then  he 
came  around  to  the  back  door  again  and  shook  it. 
The  clatter  of  the  old-fashioned  latch  startled  him 
with  its  noise ;  but  his  efforts  produced  no  other 
effect.  He  backed  off  to  a  little  distance  and 
looked  up  at  the  windows.  Bobbie's  was  left 
temptingly  open,  as  if  to  mock  him.  If  he  could 
only  get  up  there !  But  he  might  as  well  wish  to 
call  on  the  Man  in  the  Moon,  while  he  was  about 
it ;  a  pair  of  wings  would  be  necessary7  in  either 
case. 


"FACILIS   DESCENSUS   AVERNI."  285 

Once  more  he  prowled  around  the  house,  trying 
all  the  windows  within  reach  from  the  ground. 
They  were  all  made  fast  on  the  inside,  as  Jack  hadx 
supposed,  for  Grandpa  Atherton's  hobby  was  a 
continual  fear  of  burglars,  and  he  had  enough 
bolts  and  bars  on  his  house  to  enable  it  to  with- 
stand an  ordinary  siege.  Finding  his  efforts  of 
no  avail,  Jack  came  around  to  the  front  of  the 
house  again,  and  threw  himself  down  on  the  broad 
porch  at  the  door,  to  rest  at  his  ease  while  he 
planned  what  to  do  with  himself,  all  the  long 
afternoon.  If  he  had  only  gone  with  the  others ! 
But  there  was  no  use  in  his  wishing  for  an  impos- 
sibility. The  mischief  was  done,  and  he  must 
make  the  best  of  it.  Still,  it  was  provoking  to 
miss  both  the  drive  and  the  chance  to  revenge 
himself  upon  Bobbie.  He  wondered  what  he 
would  better  do  next. 

He  was  still  glancing  meditatively  about  and 
revolving  various  plans  in  his  fertile  brain,  when 
he  chanced  to  catch  sight  of  a  low,  narrow  window 
opening  into  the  cellar,  and  a  sudden  brilliant  idea 
came  into  his  head.  The  window  was  very  small, 
the  sash  only  held  two  square  panes  of  glass  and 
was  swung  on  a  hinge ;  and  he  saw  from  the  crack 
at  one  side  that  through  some  carelessness  it  had 


286  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

been  left  unfastened.  He  chuckled  to  himself  as 
he  thought  of  his  grandfather's  horror,  if  he  could 
see  it.  Just  below  the  window,  he  remembered, 
stood  Grandma  Atherton's  shelves  of  preserves ; 
and,  by  careful  management,  anyone  who  should 
succeed  in  crawling  in  through  the  window,  could 
use  those  shelves  as  a  ladder  by  which  to  descend 
to  the  floor.  Once  on  the  cellar  bottom,  his  course 
was  clear.  Ten  feet  from  the  window,  the  stairs 
led  up  into  the  kitchen,  and  from  there  it  was  easy 
enough  to  reach  Bobbie's  room,  find  his  pen,  make 
hay  of  her  possessions  and  then  retire  by  way  of 
the  front  door.  Jack  hesitated  no  longer.  He 
pulled  off  his  coat,  threw  it  on  the  floor  of  the 
porch  and,  approaching  the  little  window,  he 
pushed  it  wide  open. 

The  hole  was  a  tight  fit  for  a  boy  of  fifteen,  and 
Jack  surveyed  it  rather  dubiously.  Then  he  put 
in  his  head  and  looked  about  him.  The  sudden 
change  from  the  bright  sunshine  to  the  dim  light 
of  the  cellar  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  distin- 
guish anything  below  him;  but  he  took  it  for 
granted  that  everything  was  in  its  usual  place. 
Accordingly,  he  drew  out  his  head,  turned  around 
and  prepared  to  wiggle  in,  feet  first.  Half-way 
through  the  window,  he  stuck  fast,  and  for  a  few 


"FACILIS    DESCENSUS   AVERNI."  287 

moments  it  seemed  more  than  probable  that  he 
would  have  to  spend  his  afternoon  in  that  undigni- 
fied position.  However,  after  he  had  writhed  and 
kicked  and  pushed  until  his  courage  and  strength 
were  both  becoming  exhausted,  he  at  length  suc- 
ceeded in  forcing  his  way  through  the  opening 
and  hung  by  his  hands,  while  he  swung  his  feet 
this  way  and  that,  in  search  of  the  shelves  which 
were  nowhere  to  be  found. 

The  old  cellar  was  ten  feet  deep,  and  Jack 
realized  with  an  uncomfortable  keenness  .that  it 
would  be  no  pleasant  experience  to  drop  from  the 
little  window  at  the  top,  down  on  the  hard  earth 
floor  beneath.  It  was  impossible  to  pull  himself 
up  again,  and  work  his  way  out  through  the 
window  once  more ;  so  he  could  only  cling  to  the 
sash,  while  there  flashed  through  his  mind  grew- 
some  tales  of  broken  ribs  and  sprained  ankles 
and  similar  uncomfortable  experiences.  At  length 
his  wrists  could  bear  the  strain  no  longer ;  he  felt 
his  hold  weakening,  and  he  fell  with  a  thud  down 
upon  a  great  pile  of  wood  ashes  which  had  been 
placed  there,  only  the  day  before. 

Beyond  the  blow  to  his  feelings,  and  the  cloud 
of  ashes  which  filled  his  eyes  and  mouth,  Jack 
was  not  hurt  in  the  least.  He  lay  still  for  a 


288  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

moment,  to  collect  his  scattered  ideas ;  then  he 
rose  and  brushed  himself  off,  while  there  came 
into  his  mind  a  vague  memory  of  having  heard 
Uncle  Jerry  tell  the  man  to  save  all  the  ashes 
from  the  wood  fires,  that  winter,  since  they  were 
so  good  to  scatter  over  the  lawn,  in  the  spring. 
However,  he  was  unable  to  discover  what  had 
become  of  the  shelves  which  ordinarily  stood 
there,  until,  glancing  across  into  a  dark  corner 
near  the  stairway,  he  saw  the  familiar  gleam  of 
the  well-filled  glass  jars. 

Once  on  his  feet  again,  he  realized  that  there 
was  no  time  to  be  wasted,  especially  since  to  his 
former  program  was  now  added  the  necessity  of 
removing  all  traces  of  the  ashes  from  his  person ; 
and  this,  he  felt  convinced,  would  be  no  short 
and  easy  task.  According,  he  marched  across 
the  cellar,  ran  up  the  stairs  to  the  kitchen  door 
and  pressed  the  latch,  only  to  find  that  all  his 
trials  were  to  no  purpose.  With  unusual  care 
and  foresight,  the  maids  had  bolted  the  door 
before  they  left  the  house.  At  this  overwhelm- 
ing discovery,  Jack's  feelings  overcame  him,  and 
he  gave  vent  to  a  prolonged  whistle. 

"Treed  like  Davy  Crockett's  coon,  by  Jove  ! "' 
he  said  to  himself.  "  Here  is  a  mess !  I  must 


"FACILIS   DESCENSUS   AVEIINI."  289 

get  out,  or  I'll  never  hear  the  last  of  it  from 
Bob.  She's  never  forgiven  me  for  having  to 
fish  her  out  of  the  pot-hole,  last  fall,  and  she'll 
just  fatten  on  this."  And  quitting  the  stairs, 
Jack  returned  to  the  ash-heap,  where  he  de- 
jectedly sat  down  to  ponder  upon  his  situation. 

It  was  not  an  encouraging  prospect  before  him. 
The  cellar  was  dark  and  damp;  the  afternoon 
would  be  a  long  and  tedious  one,  for  he  had  no 
possible  occupation ;  and,  most  of  all,  he  had  the 
certainty  of  being  well  laughed  at,  when  the 
others  came  home  and  discovered  him  in  his 
absurd  plight.  He  was  perfectly  well  aware  that 
he  deserved  being  laughed  at,  that  he  would  have 
laughed  at  Danforth  or  Bobbie  in  the  same  pre- 
dicament ;  but  that  made  it  no  easier  for  him  to 
bear  their  ridicule.  And  yet,  sitting  there  in  the 
ashes,  he  laughed  at  himself,  laughed  till  the 
tears  came  into  his  dark  eyes,  so  keenly  did  he 
realize  the  comicality  of  his  position.  No;  it 
would  never  do  to  be  discovered  there.  He  must 
get  out,  in  some  way  or  other. 

He  started  up  again  and  began  to  explore  the 
cellar,  in  the  hope  of  discovering,  in  some  dark 
corner,  a  ladder  or  else  some  boxes  which  he 
could  pile  up  under  the  window,  and  so  climb 


290  MA11GAUET   DAVIS,  TUTOll. 

out  into  the  light  of  day.  Nothing  of  the  kind 
was  to  be  found;  the  cellar  was  barren  of  all 
such  waste  lumber,  and  swept  and  garnished  as 
was  all  of  Grandma  Atherton's  domain.  For  one 
short  moment,  Jack  even  meditated  taking  all 
the  glass  jars  from  the  shelves,  and  moving  the 
shelves  across  to  the  window.  Then  he  dismissed 
that  hope.  It  would  be  a  long  piece  of  work,  and 
he  would  be  unable  to  come  back  again  to  replace 
the  jars,  so  their  changed  position  would  inevita- 
bly lead  to  discovery.  If  he  must  take  the  ridi- 
cule in  any  case,  he  would  not  put  himself  to  all 
that  trouble  as  well.  He  returned  to  his  ash-heap 
and  waited. 

The  afternoon  passed  very  slowly.  In  the  in- 
tervals of  thinking  of  the  others  and  picturing 
their  enjoyment  of  their  drive,  he  had  plenty  of 
time  to  meditate  upon  his  past,  his  present  and 
his  future.  He  went  back  to  India,  even,  and  to 
the  memory  of  one  long  day  of  solitary  confine- 
ment he  had  undergone,  where  his  ayah  had  re- 
morselessly told  tales  of  his  misdeeds  to  his  mother. 
Bobbie  had  been  in  the  same  scrape,  too,  and  he 
remembered  that  he  had  gained  some  comfort 
from  the  knowledge  that  she  was  just  as  badly 
off  as  he  was,  that  he  was  not  alone  in  his 


"FACILIS    DESCENSUS    AVE11NI."  291 

suffering.  But  to-day  Bobbie  was  triumphantly 
riding  off  at  Uncle  Jerry's  side,  and  he  was  sit- 
ting there  alone  in  the  dark,  gloomy  cellar.  He 
thought  of  the  Prisoner  of  Chillon  and  the  Man 
in  the  Iron  Mask,  and  reflected  that  never  before 
had  he  felt  half  enough  sympathy  for  them.  The 
Princes  in  the  tower  didn't  count,  for  there  were 
two  of  them,  and  they  could  keep  each  other 
company. 

He  had  apparently  been  sitting  there  for  hours, 
when  he  heard  a  step  approaching  the  house,  and 
he  held  his  breath  to  listen.  If  it  were  only  one 
of  the  servants,  all  would  yet  be  well,  for  Jack 
had  a  generous  allowance  and  he  had  already  tested 
the  effect  of  small  bribes  in  covering  the  manifes- 
tations of  his  sins.  But  the  person,  whoever  it 
was,  evidently  was  not  a  servant,  for  the  steps 
went  directly  toward  the  front  door.  Should  he 
throw  himself  upon  the  mercy  of  a  guest?  Jack 
hesitated.  If  it  were  a  woman,  she  would  be 
powerless  to  help  him  out;  moreover,  she  would 
be  much  more  likely  to  tell  tales  of  him.  All  in 
all,  though,  he  thought  he  would  take  his  chances, 
so  he  called  as  loudly  as  he  could,  — 
"  Who's  there  ?  I  want  some  help." 
There  was  a  short  silence,  while  the  caller 


292  MAKGAllET   DAVIS,   TUTOE. 

evidently  looked  about  to  discover  the  source  of 
this  unexpected  salutation.  Then,  to  Jack's  in- 
finite relief,  the  answer  came  back  in  an  unmis- 
takably masculine  tone,  — 

"  Where  are  you  ?  " 

"  Down  cellar.     Come  and  help  me  out." 

After  his  experiences  of  the  afternoon,  to  Jack's 
mind  there  was  but  one  way  of  approach  to  the 
cellar.  Apparently  the  stranger  did  not  possess 
the  key  to  the  mystery,  however,  for  there  fol- 
lowed another  pause  of  uncertainty. 

"How  shall  I  get  there?"  he  called,  at  length. 

There  was  something  so  absurd  in  this  inter- 
view, carried  on  at  the  tops  of  their  lungs,  al- 
though in  reality  they  were  but  a  few  feet  apart, 
that  Jack  had  to  stop  and  laugh,  before  he  an- 
swered, — 

"  Through  that  window  by  the  front  door,  the 
little,  low  window.  But  don't  you  come  here ;  I 
want  you  to  get  me  out,  not  come  in,  yourself." 

A  moment  later,  Jack  saw  the  window  suddenly 
darkened.  Looking  up,  he  discovered  the  face  of 
Mr.  Thornton  staring  down  at  him  with  unfeigned 
amazement. 

"  If  I  might  inquire  — "  he  was  beginning,  as 
he  gazed  down  upon  this  nineteenth-century  Job, 


"FACILTS   DESCENSUS   AVERNI."  293 

still  seated  in  the  ashes,  when  Jack  interrupted 
him,  — 

"Don't  inquire.  Help  me  out,  Mr.  Thornton, 
and  do  your  inquiring  later.  You  get  me  out  of 
this,  and  then  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it." 

"But  is  Miss  Davis  at  home?"  Mr.  Thornton 
asked  a  little  nervously. 

"  No ;  there  isn't  anybody  at  home.  That's  the 
reason  I'm  here,"  replied  Jack  petulantly.  "  Can't 
yon  get  me  out?" 

"  I'm  not  sure  how  to  manage  it,"  said  Mr. 
Thornton,  who  was  apparently  dazed  by  this 
unexpected  call  upon  his  mercy  and  his  inventive- 
ness. "  Why  don't  you  go  up  those  stairs  and 
around  through  the  house  ?  "  he  suggested  feebly, 
after  a  prolonged  contemplation  of  the  scene  of 
action. 

"  Oh,  come  off  there  ! "  said  Jack  irreverently. 
"  Don't  you  suppose  I'd  have  done  that  hours  ago, 
if  I  could?  I'm  locked  out  and  I  tried  to  get 
into  the  house  this  way ;  don't  you  see  ?  That 
door  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  is  fastened,  and  I 
can't  get  back  out  of  the  window.  I  don't  know 
when  the  others  will  be  home,  and,  naturally,  I 
want  to  get  out  of  this  -place  before  the  crack  of 
doom." 


294  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"  Oh,  I  think  I  am  beginning  to  understand," 
said  Mr.  Thornton,  upon  whom  a  new  light  had 
dawned.  "  You're  caught  in  here,  and  you  want 
to  get  out  before  the  others  come  home  to  laugh 
at  you;  is  that  it?" 

"  Now  you've  struck  it,"  said  Jack  approvingly. 
"  Next  thing  is,  how  are  you  going  to  strike  me  ?  " 

"  Isn't  there  a  ladder  around  here  anywhere  ?  " 
inquired  Mr.  Thornton,  looking  about  him. 

"  Two  little  ones  in  the  barn,  left  hand  side  as 
you  go  in,"  replied  Jack  concisely. 

"Wait  till  I  get  them."    And  the  head  vanished. 

It  was  gone  for  a  long  time.  At  last  there  came 
a  sound  of  bumping  and  scraping,  and  then  Mr. 
Thornton's  voice  called,  — 

"  All  right  ?  Keep  out  of  the  way  till  I  let  this 
down."  And  the  end  of  a  ladder  came  slowly  in 
at  the  open  window. 

It  was  but  the  work  of  a  moment  more  to  let 
down  the  ladder  and  to  arrange  it  in  position. 
Then  Jack  slowly  crawled  forth  to  the  light  of  day, 
and  drew  the  ladder  out  after  him.  But  such  a 
Jack!  Coated  with  ashes  from  head  to  heel,  he 
came  out  as  gray  as  the  proverbial  miller,  for  the 
dust  had  powdered  his  hair,  begrimed  his  face  and 
changed  the  complexion  of  his  clothing  until  it 


"FACILIS   DESCENSUS    AVERNI."  295 

might  easily  have  been  mistaken  for  penitential 
sackcloth.  The  boy  looked  down  at  himself,  then 
at  Mr.  Thornton  who  was  dressed  with  more  than 
usual  care,  and  he  burst  out  laughing  so  heartily 
and  infectiously  that  his  companion  joined  him. 

"  I  really  must  be  going,"  Mr.  Thornton  said, 
a  little  later,  after  Jack  had  told  him  the  full  story 
of  his  woes.  "Please  say  to  Miss  Davis  that  I 
called,  and  that  I  am  extremely  sorry  she  is  away. 
You'll  not  forget?"  he  added  anxiously. 

"  Trust  me  !  "  returned  Jack.  "  You  don't  know 
how  grateful  to  you  I  am,  Mr.  Thornton.  You've 
helped  me  out  of  a  bad  scrape  to-day,  and  maj^be 
sometime  I  can  do  the  same  for  you.  I  hope  so, 
anyway."  And  as  the  guest  went  away  down  the 
hill,  Jack  departed  to  the  barn,  to  find  the  horse- 
brush  and  the  carriage-sponge,  and  remove  as  much 
as  possible  of  the  ashes  from  his  clothing  and  skin, 
that  he  might  be  able  to  get  to  his  room  unob- 
served, as  soon  as  the  house  was  opened  again. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

DUKE   AND   DANFORTH. 

"  ANYTHING  you'd  like  before  I  go,  Grandma  ?  " 
asked  Danforth,  coming  into  the  dining-room 
where  Grandma  Atherton  and  Margaret  sat  linger- 
ing over  their  lunch,  long  after  the  others  had  left 
the  table. 

"Nothing,  I  think,"  she  answered,  looking  up 
at  the  boy  who  stood,  cap  in  hand,  in  the  doorway. 

u  Where  are  you  bound,  my  dear  ? "  inquired 
Margaret,  rising  and  crossing  the  room  to  his  side. 

"  Off  for  a  ride ;  that's  all,"  he  replied,  smiling 
down  at  her,  for  in  the  year  he  had  completely 
outgrown  his  tutor,  and  took  great  pride  in  looking 
over  the  top  of  her  head.  "I  wish  you  felt  like 
coming,  too." 

"  I  wish  I  could,"  she  answered  fervently.  "  You 
know  I'd  like  nothing  better  than  a  scamper  with 
you ;  but  I  played,  all  yesterday  afternoon,  and 
to-day  I  must  write  to  mother,  or  she'll  think  I 
have  forsaken  her.  Take  good  care  of  yourself, 
296 


DUKE  AND   DANFORTH.  297 

little  boy."  And  she  patted  his  arm  in  the 
motherly  fashion  which  Dan  forth  liked  so  well. 

"  Trust  me  to  look  out  for  number  one,"  he  said, 
laughing,  as  he  came  forward  to  the  table  and 
helped  himself  to  a  handful  of  crackers.  "  If  you 
won't  come  with  me,  come  out  and  see  me  mount, 
at  least.  Remember  your  first  experience  in  that 
line?" 

"Saucy  boy!"  said  Margaret,  laughing  at  the 
recollection.  "I've  redeemed  my  reputation,  so  you 
ought  to  be  generous  and  forget  my  early  sins. 
Wait  till  I  get  some  sugar  for  Duke,  and  then  I'll 
come  and  see  you  off." 

"  I  do  wish  Jerry  would  sell  that  pony,"  said 
Grandma  Atherton  uneasily.  "  I  don't  think  he's 
safe  for  you  to  ride,  Dan." 

"You  don't  need  to  worry,  Grandma,"  he 
answered  carelessly.  "Duke  is  cross  sometimes; 
but  he  knows  I'm  his  master,  and  he  has  to  come 
to  terms." 

Duke  certainly  was  cross,  that  day.  His  eyes 
showed  an  angry  gleam,  as  he  came  out  of  the 
stable,  and  he  pawed  the  ground  restlessly,  while 
Danforth  was  buckling  the  saddle  girths,  even  the 
sugar  he  accepted  haughtily,  as  if  he  were  in  no 
mind  to  be  bribed  into  a  good  humor.  The  next 


298  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

moment,  Danforth  leaped  lightly  into  the  saddle 
and  grasped  the  reins,  as  Duke  reared  and  kicked 
in  a  way  to  send  a  less  experienced  rider  to  the 
ground.  But  Danforth  kept  his  seat  easily  enough, 
and  with  a  quick  touch  of  the  whip,  a  quick  turn 
of  the  curb-rein,  he  brought  Duke  to  the  ground 
again,  and  sent  him  bounding  forward  at  a  gallop. 
Then  he  turned  in  .his  seat,  and  waved  his  cap  to 
Margaret.  For  one  instant,  she  saw  the  bright, 
boyish  face,  the  sparkling  blue  eyes  and  the  smooth 
yellow  hair  uncovered  in  the  sunshine ;  then  the 
horse  and  rider  vanished  under  the  brow  of  the 
hill. 

For  some  reason,  Margaret's  letter  progressed 
slowly,  that  afternoon.  Perhaps  the  warm,  clear 
day  made  her  long  to  be  out  with  Danforth ; 
perhaps  she  was  in  that  melancholy  condition, 
common  to  us  all  at  times,  of  having  nothing  to 
say.  However  the  case  might  have  been,  she 
found  herself,  pen  in  hand,  dreaming  over  her 
paper,  as  she  sat  by  the  front  window  of  her  room. 
Grandma  Atherton  was  taking  her  afternoon  nap, 
down-stairs,  and  Jack  and  Bobbie  were  out,  so  the 
old  house  was  very  quiet.  What  a  dear  old  house 
it  was,  and  what  good  times  she  had  enjoyed  in  it ! 
At  Easter,  it  had  been  arranged  with  her  mother 


DUKE   AND  DANFORTH.  299 

that  she  was  to  come  back  for  one  more  year,  to 
finish  preparing  the  boys  for  college.  They  had 
all  rebelled  at  the  idea  of  her  leaving  them  in 
June,  and  Mrs.  Davis  had  given  her  consent  to 
Margaret's  return,  moved  partly  by  Gerald's  urgent 
letters,  partly  by  her  daughter's  evident  happiness 
in  her  work.  The  boys  were  doing  splendidly,  too, 
so  that  she  could  take  genuine  satisfaction  in  the 
results  of  her  teaching. 

Since  Danforth's  little  romance  had  ended,  and 
he  had  returned  to  common  sense  and  the  plain 
prose  of  living  once  more,  he  had  worked  with  a 
will,  anxious  to  efface  the  memory  of  his  recent 
failure.  What  a  dear  child  he  was!  As  Margaret 
looked  back  over  the  year,  she  could  see  how,  ail- 
unconsciously,  her  thoughts  had  centered  in  him ; 
and  she  recalled  the  many  good  times  they  had  en- 
joyed together,  walking,  riding,  or  talking  lazily  by 
the  library  fire.  He  was  always  so  companionable 
and  interesting,  always  the  gentleman  in  look  and 
word  and  act.  She  acknowledged  to  herself  to-day, 
that  he  was  the  real  cause  of  her  wanting  to  come 
back  for  another  year,  that  she  was  unwilling  to 
leave  him  to  another  tutor,  whom  she  would  dislike, 
if  he  failed  to  win  the  boy's  liking ;  of  whom  she 
would  be  mortally  jealous,  if  he  quite  took  her 
place. 


300  MARGARET   DAVIS,   1DTOR. 

However,  this  was  not  writing  her  letter;  so 
she  resolutely  dipped  her  pen  into  the  ink,  wrote 
three  lines  and  stopped  again,  while  she  sat  with 
her  eyes  dreamily  fixed  on  a  tree  far  down  the 
valley.  Should  she  tell  her  mother  that  Hugh 
had  called,  the  day  before  ?  As  yet,  she  had  never 
mentioned  him  in  her  letters ;  there  was  really 
nothing  to  tell.  Now  that  he  had  called,  she  felt 
even  less  inclined  to  write  of  him,  for  she  could 
form  no  idea  of  his  motive  in  coming  to  see  her. 
Her  heart  had  throbbed  with  a  sudden  hope  when 
Jack  had  given  his  message,  the  afternoon  before ; 
and  she  had  lain  awake  most  of  the  night,  trying 
to  imagine  his  reasons  for  calling  upon  her,  after 
all  these  months  when  he  had  been  so  near  her  and 
made  no  sign.  Probably  it  was  a  mere  formal  call, 
such  as  he  would  make  upon  any  acquaintance ; 
and  he  had  made  it  to  avoid  any  comments,  now 
that  he  had  admitted  to  Gerald  that  he  used  to 
know  her  at  home.  If  that  was  his  real  reason  for 
coming,  she  was  rather  glad,  after  all,  that  she  had 
been  away  at  the  time. 

So  absorbed  was  she  in  her  musings,  that  she 
did  not  notice  a  closed  carriage  which  turned  into 
the  drive  and  came  slowly  up  the  hill,  while  the 
driver  carefully  held  in  his  horses,  to  keep  them 


DUKE   AND   DANFORTH.  301 

from  breaking  into  a  trot.  Her  first  sight  of  it 
was  not  until  it  was  stopping,  just  below  her 
window ;  and,  rising,  she  ran  quickly  down-stairs, 
to  go  to  the  door,  for  the  maids  were  busy  and 
Grandma  Atherton  was  asleep.  As  she  passed  the 
hall  window,  she  saw  something  inside  the  car- 
riage which  made  her  throw  the  door  wide  open 
and  rush  out  across  the  porch,  just  as  the  driver 
sprang  down  from  his  seat  and  came  toward  the 
step. 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked  breathlessly.  "Is 
something  the  matter?" 

To  her  surprise,  the  carriage  door  opened  quickly, 
and  Hugh  Thornton's  face  looked  out  at  her. 
Her  woman's  eye  told  her  at  a  glance  that  he  was 
very  grave,  and  involuntarily  she  looked  beyond 
him,  toward  the  figure  which  had  caught  her  eye 
from  the  window,  while  he  said,  with  an  accent  of 
relief,  — 

"  Miss  Davis,  I  am  so  glad  that  you  chanced  to 
see  us  first.  I  had  been  hoping  it  might  be  so. 
There  has  been  a  little  accident  —  " 

"Is  it  Dan?"  she  interrupted  impatiently. 
"  Tell  me,  quick !  Is  he  —  badly  hurt  ?  " 

The  pause  showed  her  unspoken  thought,  and 
Hugh  hastened  to  reassure  her.  He  had  hoped 


302  MAKGAKET   DAVIS,   TUTOH. 

to  see  her  first,  since  she  would  doubtless  bo  the 
one  least  shocked  by  his  errand ;  but  her  sudden 
pallor  and  her  ill-repressed  excitement  told  him 
his  mistake,  told  him,  too,  that  in  the  presence  of 
this  great  sorrow,  she  had  lost  all  thought  of  him 
and  of  their  past. 

"  It  is  Dan,"  he  answered,  trying  to  speak 
lightly.  "  His  pony  threw  him  ;  but  I  don't  think 
he's  seriously  hurt,  at  least,  I  hope  not.  He  hasn't 
really  come  to  himself  yet;  but  I  brought  him 
right  home.  Can  I  carry  him  in  now,  or  do  you 
want  to  prepare  his  grandmother  first  ?  " 

"  She  is  asleep  and  won't  hear  you,"  said  Mar- 
garet, forcing  herself  to  speak  quietly,  though  she 
could  scarcely  stand,  and  the  lawn  and  the  river 
and  the  valley  were  dancing  before  her  eyes. 
"  You'd  better  come  now." 

For  a  moment,  he  thought  she  was  going  to 
fall,  and,  springing  out,  he  caught  her.  At  his 
touch,  she  rallied. 

"  Don't  think  of  me,"  she  said,  with  a  wan  little 
smile.  "  I  can  go  through  it  all.  Come." 

"Better  take  him  right  to  his  room,"  said  Mr. 
Thornton,  as  he  went  back  to  the  carriage  door. 
"  That  will  save  moving  him  later,  and  I  think  I 
can  carry  him  easily." 


DUKE    AND   DANFOJBTH.  303 

Margaret  nodded  slightly ;  then,  not  trusting 
herself  to  speak  or  to  look  back  at  Hugh's  burden, 
she  led  the  way  up-stairs  into  the  boys'  room,  and 
paused  beside  the  bed  until  he  joined  her  there, 
and  gently  laid  Danforth  down  among  the  pillows. 
For  a  moment,  Margaret  looked  down  at  the  still, 
white  face  and  the  closed  eyes ;  then,  bending  for- 
ward, she  smoothed  the  disarranged  hair  and,  for 
one  instant,  laid  her  cheek  against  the  boy's  fore- 
head, in  a  mute  caress,  while  the  tears  came  fast. 
Then  she  turned  to  her  companion,  with  a  pite- 
ously  appealing  look. 

u  Tell  me,  Hugh,"  she  begged ;  "  I  can't  seem  to 
think  or  to  know  anything.  It's  as  if  everything 
had  all  stopped.  What  ought  I  to  do  ?  " 

As  he  met  her  eyes,  Mr.  Thornton's  face  grew 
radiant  with  a  new  hope ;  but  this  was  no  time 
for  pleading  his  own  cause,  neither  would  he  take 
an  unfair  advantage  of  her  excitement.  She  had 
spoken  as  if  the  past  fourteen  months  were  all 
a  blank.  For  the  present,  that  was  enough  for 
him,  and  he  would  meet  her  upon  her  own  ground ; 
and  yet,  no  power  on  earth  could  keep  him  from 
using  the  little  old  home  name,  as  he  answered 
gently,  — 

"  Poor  little  Peggy !     It  is  hard  for  you  all.     I 


304  MARGARET    DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

never  dreamed  that  you  cared  so  much  for  your 
boy,  or  I  would  have  prepared  you  more.  But 
now  I  will  stay  with  him  while  you  go  down 
and  tell  Mrs.  Atherton;  then  I'll  drive  over,  as 
fast  as  I  can,  and  bring  back  a  doctor.  Truly,  it 
may  not  be  so  bad  as  you  think." 

"  Oh,  my  Dan !  How  can  I  bear  it !  "  And  in 
spite  of  her  efforts  at  calmness,  the  tears  rolled 
down  her  cheeks ;  but  she  rubbed  them  away,  and 
left  the  room. 

An  hour  later,  she  was  roused  by  a  knock  at 
Danforth's  door.  Opening  it,  she  found  Maggie, 
who  whispered  softly,  — 

"  Mr.  Thornton  wanted  me  to  say  he's  waiting 
here,  Miss  ;  and  can  he  do  anything  more  ?  " 

"  Tell  him  I'll  come." 

As  Hugh  rose  to  meet  her,  he  wondered  at  her 
perfect  quiet.  She  was  using  all  her  self-control 
to  keep  back  her  tears,  and  to  meet  him  as  she 
would  have  done  another  man,  in  his  place. 

"  Forgive  me  for  disturbing  you,"  he  said  peni- 
tently ;  "  but  I  couldn't  bear  to  go  away  without 
knowing  what  the  doctor  has  said." 

"  He  said  so  little,  so  dreadfully  little,"  she 
answered,  dropping  into  a  chair.  "  Dan  has  come 
to  himself,  at  last,  and  the  doctor  says  he  hopes  it 


DUKE   AND   DANFOKTH.  305 

will  be  nothing  serious ;  but  he  can't  tell  until  he 
makes  another  examination  to-morrow.  In  the 
meantime,  Dan  is  to  be  kept  very  quiet,  not  even 
allowed  to  see  Jack  and  Bobbie.  I  am  to  be  chief 
nurse,  I  believe,  for  he  asked  for  me  at  first,  and  is 
restless  if  I  leave  him." 

"  Don't  let  me  keep  you."  And  Mr.  Thornton- 
rose,  as  if  to  go. 

"  Please  stay  a  little  longer,"  she  said  slowly. 
"  I  haven't  said  yet  how  thankful  we  are  for  all 
you  have  done.  I  can't  seem  to  find  the  words  I 
am  trying  to  say  ;  but  —  you  know.  And  I  must 
hear  how  it  all  happened." 

"  It  was  the  fault  of  that  pony  he  rides.  He's 
a  vicious  little  fellow,  and  too  much  for  anybody, 
though  Dan  has  managed  him  splendidly.  They 
were  coming  up  through  the  other  end  of  River- 
ton,  when  the  pony  was  frightened  at  one  of  the 
cars  by  the  power-house.  He  shied,  and  then  he 
ran.  Dan  stuck  to  him  like  a  burr,  and  I  thought 
he'd  conquer  the  beast ;  but  the  pony  swung 
round  a  corner  so  suddenly  that  he  threw  Dan  off 
against  the  curbstone.  He  struck  on  his  back  and 
head—" 

"  Oh,  don't ! "  The  words  came  like  a  cry  of 
pain,  as  Margaret's  head  fell  forward  on  her  hands. 


306  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  Hugh  asked  anxiously. 

"  That's  what  the  doctor  was  afraid  of.  I  know 
now,  and  it  may  be  worse  than  we  feared." 

"  You  don't  mean  his  spine  ?  " 

Margaret  gave  a  slight  sign  of  assent. 

"  Anything  but  that !  "  And  Hugh's  face  grew 
even  more  grave,  at  the  thought. 

"  That  is  what  he  meant ;  I'm  sure  of  it.  It 
can't  be,  to  have  it  come  all  in  a  minute,  when 
nobody  was  there  to  help  him." 

"It  may  not  be  so,  after  all.  I  wish  I  could 
comfort  you ;  but  only  Dan  can  do  that.  Go 
back  to  him,  please ;  I  am  selfish  to  keep  you." 

She  rose  and  took  his  hand. 

"Thank  you  so  much,"  she  said  huskily,  "for 
all  you've  done  for  us  to-day.  You  have  been  so 
good." 

He  looked  steadily  down  into  the  sad,  white 
face  below  him,  as  he  stood  holding  her  trembling 
hand  in  his  two  firm,  muscular  ones. 

"  May  I  come  again,"  he  asked,  in  a  low  voice ; 
"come  again  when  Danforth  is  better,  and  you 
can  spare  a  little  time  from  him?  " 

There  was  a  hush,  only  broken  by  the  tick- 
ing of  the  old  clock  across  the  hall.  Then 
Margaret  raised  her  eyes  to  meet  his. 


DUKE   AND   DANFOKTH.  307 

"  Yes,"  she  said  simply ;  "  you  may  come 
again." 

When  she  went  back  up-stairs,  it  seemed  as  if 
years  had  passed  since  she  had  left  Danforth,  only 
a  few  moments  before.  Grandma  Atherton  and 
Gerald  were  still  sitting  by  the  bed,  looking  so 
sad,  although  they  forced  themselves  to  smile  when- 
ever the  boy  opened  his  eyes.  Only  a  little  while 
before,  she  had  shared  their  hopeless  mood ;  now 
she  felt  a  new,  involuntary  hope  springing  up 
within  her.  Life  was  so  good  to  her,  so  kind,  in 
spite  of  all  her  fears.  It  had  brought  back  to  her 
what  she  had  most  desired,  and  it  could  not  be  that 
she  must  lose  her  Dan,  just  at  the  very  moment 
when  she  had  regained  so  much.  He  must  live 
and  get  well,  she  told  herself  over  and  over  again. 
No  matter  what  the  future  brought  her,  it  would 
only  be  an  imperfect  gift,  if  Danforth  were  to  be 
taken  from  them.  If  he  lived,  her  life  looked  full 
of  promise ;  without  him,  even  the  joy  of  finding 
Hugh  lost  half  its  delight.  But  if  only  to-morrow 
would  come,  and  the  doctor  give  them  his  final 
verdict!  This  suspense  was  worse  than  all  the 
rest. 

As  she  came  into  the  room,  Gerald  rose  from 
his  place  at  the  head  of  the  bed. 


308  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

"Danforth  has  been  asking  for  you,"  he  said, 
in  a  low  voice,  as  he  looked  wonderingly  up  into 
her  face  which,  in  spitQ  of  all  its  gravity,  was 
lighted  with  a  new,  sweet  joy  that  he  had  never 
seen  there  before.  "  He  says  you  know  best  how 
to  make  him  comfortable." 

She  went  quickly  forward  to  the  bed  and  bent 
over  the  boy.  who  opened  his  eyes  and  smiled 
faintly  up  into  her  face. 

"Don't  go  off  again,"  he  murmured.  "You 
know  just  how." 

She  laid  her  hand  caressingly  against  his  cheek. 

"  I  won't  leave  you,  Dan,"  she  promised.  "  As 
long  as  you  want  me,  I'll  stay  here  with  you." 

Late  that  night,  they  were  alone  together. 
Jack  had  been  sent  into  his  uncle's  room  to  sleep, 
and  Margaret  had  begged  Grandma  Atherton  and 
Gerald  to  go  away  for  a  little  rest.  There  was 
nothing  to  be  done  but  to  wait  until  morning 
should  decide  the  future ;  Danforth  was  content 
to  have  her  with  him,  and  she  was  stronger  than 
they,  to  bear  the  strain  of  the  long  night.  At 
length,  they  had  reluctantly  gone  away  and  left 
her  alone  with  the  boy.  The  darkness  of  the 
room  was  only  broken  by  the  faint  glow  of  the 
fire  and  the  one  shaft  of  light  which  came  stream- 


DUKE   AND   DANFORTH.  309 

ing  in  from  the  lamp  in  the  hall.  Margaret  sat 
in  a  low  chair  by  the  bedside,  with  her  head  rest- 
ing against  the  end  of  the  pillow  and  her  fingers 
lying  lightly  upon  Danforth's  hand,  while  her 
brain  throbbed  with  the  day's  excitement. 

One  after  another,  a  series  of  pictures  seemed 
starting  out  of  the  darkness  before  her:  Dan- 
forth,  cap  in  hand,  riding  away  in  all  his  boyish 
strength;  Danforth,  limp  and  unconscious,  being 
brought  up  the  stairs,  in  Hugh's  strong  arms ; 
Danforth,  as  she  had  seen  him  in  the  twilight, 
lying  there  so  white  and  still,  while  the  grave 
face  of  the  old  doctor  bent  above  him,  seeking  to 
know  the  full  extent  of  his  injuries.  Her  passing 
hour  of  courage  had  fled  again,  and  into  the 
future  she  dared  not  look.  Hugh's  account  of 
the  accident  had  sent  a  quick  fear  into  her  mind, 
the  sickening  thought  that  death,  even,  might 
not  be  the  worst  thing  which  could  come  to  her 
boy.  Any  injury  to  the  spine  might  mean  that 
the  time  would  come  when  the}r  would  all  wish 
that  Danforth  had  never  roused  from  his  stupor. 
Involuntarily  her  hand  closed  upon  his,  as  if  to 
shield  him  from  such  a  fate.  Danforth  stirred  a 
little. 

"What  is  it,  dear?"  she  asked. 


310  MARGARET    DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

"  My  back  hurts  me  a  good  deal,"  he  answered 
wearily ;  "  and  I  can't  seem  to  get  comfortable." 

"  Perhaps  I  can  make  it  easier,"  she  said.  "  Let 
me  try.  So  ;  isn't  that  better  ?  " 

Seating  herself  on  the  side  of  the  bed,  she 
placed  one  arm  under  the  pillow  and  drew  it 
gently  toward  her,  until  Danforth's  head  and 
shoulders  rested  against  her  side. 

"  That's  fine,"  he  said  gratefully.  "  What  time 
is  it?" 

"  Only  eleven,"  she  answered. 

"  Eleven  ;  why  don't  you  go  to  bed  ?  "  he  asked 
wonderingly.  "  I  don't  want  you  to  stay  here, 
just  for  me." 

"  I'm  not  sleepy,  at  all,"  Margaret  replied  gently. 
"  I  am  going  to  stay  with  you,  to-night,  in  case  you 
want  anything.  Now,  can't  you  go  to  sleep?" 

"  I  wish  I  could,  for  I  can't  lie  still,  and  it  hurts 
me  to  move." 

"  Poor  old  Dan ! "  And  Margaret  drew  her 
hand  slowly  across  the  boy's  forehead  and  cheek. 

"  That  feels  good,"  he  murmured  ;  "  go  on,  if  it 
doesn't  tire  you." 

She  kept  up  the  motion,  with  a  slow,  even  touch 
which  told  no  tale  of  her  unstrung  nerves.  It  was 
all  she  could  do  for  the  boy  who,  all-unconscious, 


DUKE   AND    DANFORTH.  311 

was  lying  between  life  and,  perhaps,  something 
worse  than  death.  Instinctively  her  arm  grew 
tighter  about  him,  and  her  touch  on  his  cheek  be- 
came more  and  more  gentle. 

"  Sing  something,"  he  said,  in  a  whisper. 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  she  began  to 
sing  a  little  cradle  song  which  she  had  often  sung, 
two  years  ago.  Hugh  had  been  so  fond  of  it,  in 
the  old  times,  and  it  had  never  crossed  her  lips 
since  the  day  she  had  last  seen  him.  Now,  all- 
unsought,  it  came  into  her  mind,  and  she  sang  it, 
softly  and  low. 

"  '  Slumber,  and  dream  of  the  fast-coming  years, 
Which  are  unfolding  before  thee  ; 
Dream  thou  of  those  whom  love  endears, 
Who  now  so  fondly  watch  o'er  thee.'" 

Hugh's  face  seemed  to  be  looking  down  upon 
her,  out  of  the  darkness.  She  could  see  it  again, 
just  as  it  had  been,  that  afternoon,  with  a  whole 
unspoken  story  in  its  brown  eyes,  and  a  little 
glad  note  of  exultation  thrilled  in  her  voice,  as 
she  went  on,  — 

"  '  Gathering  storms  may  not  fail  to  o'ertake  thee ; 
Only  a  true  love  will  never  forsake  thee. 
Bide  but  a  little  longer  I 
Bide  thou '" 


312  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

Danforth's  breath  was  coming  with  a  deep, 
gentle  regularity,  and  she  could  feel  the  relaxation 
of  his  whole  figure,  as  he  yielded  to  her  soothing 
touch  and  voice.  If  he  could  only  rest  to-night, 
to  be  ready  to  bear  what  the  new  day  had  in 
store  for  him ! 

" '  Slumber,  and  dream  of  the  splendor  of  spring ; 
Joy  to  o'erflowing  is  given. 
Hark !  how  the  birds  so  tenderly  sing, 
Love  reigns  on  earth,  as  in  heaven.'" 

Again  the  new  note  of  happiness  in  her  low 
voice.  Down-stairs  in  the  library,  Gerald  stopped 
his  restless  pacing  of  the  floor,  and  held  his  breath 
to  listen.  The  words  were  speaking  to  him  more 
eloquently  than  the  singer  was  aware ;  and  it  was 
as  well,  perhaps,  that  Margaret  could  not  see  him, 
as  he  stood  on  the  threshold,  resting  his  head 
against  the  portiere,  while  she  went  dreamily  on  to 
the  end  of  the  song. 

" '  Seasons  pass  o'er  thee,  but  thou  art  not  heeding; 
Thy  time  of  promise  toward  thee  is  speeding. 
Bide  but  a  little  longer! 
Bide  thou,  bide  but  a  little  longer  I 
Slumber ! ' " 

Her  voice  slowly  sank  away  into  silence,  and 
the  old  clock  took  up  its  monotonous  refrain. 


DUKE   AND    DANFORTH.  313 

Down-stairs,  the  man  had  fallen  into  a  chair  and 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  as  if  to  shut 
out  the  sight  and  sound  of  temptation ;  above, 
in  the  dark,  quiet  room,  Danforth  had  fallen 
asleep. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE   REPEATED    MESSAGE. 

"Miss  DAVIS?" 

"  Yes,  Dan."  And  Margaret  rose  from  her 
place  by  the  window,  and  crossed  the  room  to 
the  bed. 

"I  wish  you'd  tell  me  something,  tell  me 
honestly." 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ? "  she  asked,  with  a  little 
feeling  of  dread  of  the  coming  question,  for  the 
boyish  face  before  her,  while  it  looked  very  young 
and  childishly  delicate,  yet  had  a  strange  expres- 
sion of  anxious  determination. 

"  I  want  to  know  just  what  the  doctor  said 
about  me,  last  time  he  came.  Am  I  going  to  get 
well?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  answered,  trying  to  force  herself 
to  speak  lightly. 

"  Perfectly  well?  "  he  asked  slowly,  as  he  looked 
searchingly  up  into  her  face. 

314 


THE   REPEATED   MESSAGE.  315 

For  an  instant  Margaret  hesitated ;  then  she  said 
gently,  — 

"  I  hope  so,  Dan." 

For  his  only  answer,  the  boy  drew  the  sheet  up 
over  his  face  for  a  moment,  and  lay  very  still. 
Then  he  asked  steadily,  — 

"  What  are  the  chances  ?  " 

Margaret  sat  down  on  the  side  of  the  bed  and 
took  his  hand  in  hers. 

"  We  can't  tell  yet,  Dan.  Duke  gave  you  a 
bad  fall,  that  day;  and  it  may  be  a  good  while 
before  you  are  quite  your  old  self  again.  Still, 
that's  only  a  maybe,  and  the  doctor  said  you 
might  come  out  of  it  all  right,  in  a  little  while." 

"And  if  I  don't?" 

"  We  won't  look  at  that  if,  Dan,"  she  said 
cheerfully.  "  The  other  is  what  we're  going  to 
hold  on  to,  and  we'll  try  to  forget  this." 

"What's  the  use?"  he  asked  quickly.  "I'd 
rather  be  told  all  about  it  now,  Miss  Davis,  for  I 
know  something's  wrong,  or  grandma  wouldn't 
look  at  me  the  way  she  does.  I've  been  in  bed 
more  than  a  week,  now,  and  I'm  able  to  hear  how 
I'm  coming  out.  Please  tell  me.  If  you  don't, 
I  shall  think  it's  ever  so  much  worse  than  it 
really  is." 


316  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

It  was  a  hard  moment  for  Margaret,  and  she 
longed  to  run  away  from  the  boy's  gaze  and  from 
his  questions.  Then  she  nerved  herself  to  the 
sternest  of  all  duties,  that  of  speaking  the  truth. 

"  Dan,"  she  began  slowly ;  "  I  wish  you  hadn't 
asked  me,  for  we  none  of  us  know  just  what  to 
tell  you.  It  will  be  a  few  days  longer  before  the 
doctor  can  know  how  soon  you  will  get  over  this. 
You  may  be  all  right  in  a  very  few  weeks ;  it  may 
keep  you  here  some  months,  perhaps  a  year.  But 
we'll  all  of  us  hope  that  it  won't  be  so  long,  for  we 
must  have  our  Dan  his  old  self  again.  It  is  very 
lonely  without  you,  down-stairs." 

As  she  paused,  Danforth's  grasp  on  her  fingers 
tightened  nervously,  and  he  looked  straight  up 
into  her  face,  saying,  in  a  low,  breathless  tone,  — 

"  That  isn't  all,  I  know.  No  matter  what  hap- 
pens, will  I  be  able  to  walk  again,  some  day  ?  " 

Before  Margaret  could  speak,  he  had  read  the 
answer  in  her  eyes,  and,  withdrawing  his  hand 
from  hers,  he  covered  his  face  and  was  silent. 
The  sight  of  his  suffering  was  more  than  she  could 
bear,  and  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  again,  as  she 
said  pityingly,  — 

"  Don't  feel  so  badly,  Dan.  It's  only  a  chance, 
one  little  chance,  and  you  will  probably  be  as  well 


THE   REPEATED   MESSAGE.  317 

as  ever.  The  doctor  doesn't  feel  at  all  sure,  so  we 
must  hope  all  we  can." 

Danforth  uncovered  his  face  and  looked  up  at 
her  again.  A  sudden  outburst  of  noisy  grief 
would  have  been  much  less  unnatural,  much  easier 
to  meet  than  his  perfect  quiet,  and  the  hopeless 
look  in  his  dark  blue  eyes. 

"Don't  mind  so  much,  Miss  Davis,"  he  said 
drearily,  as  a  hot  tear  splashed  down  on  his  hand. 
"  We'll  get  used  to  it  in  time,  and  then  it  won't 
seem  so  bad.  You'll  have  to  stay  round  here  a 
little  longer,  though,  for  I  can't  get  on  without 
you." 

There  was  a  short  silence,  while  Margaret 
struggled  to  regain  her  self-control.  All  at  once, 
Danforth  asked,  — 

"Where's  Duke?" 

"  He  hurt  himself,  the  day  he  ran,"  Margaret 
answered  reluctantly ;  "  and  he  had  to  be  put  to 
sleep." 

Danforth  had  borne  the  rest  in  silence ;  but 
when  he  heard  of  the  loss  of  his  old  friend  and 
companion,  his  courage  gave  way,  and  he  sud- 
denly began  to  cry,  with  a  grief  all  the  more 
intense  for  his  previous  calmness.  Margaret  still 
sat  by  his  side,  stroking  his  hair  and  speaking  a 


318  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

few  words  of  comfort,  now  and  then ;  but  she  felt 
that  it  was  of  little  use.  Danforth  was  fighting 
out  his  battle  alone,  and  she  was  powerless  to 
help  him.  At  length  he  quieted  himself  again, 
and  turned  to  her  gratefully. 

"  You  were  good  to  tell  me,"  he  said.  "  I'd 
rather  you  did  it  than  anybody  else,  for  you've 
been  my  friend  through  thick  and  thin,  and  you 
used  to  go  out  with  me,  so  you  know  how  fond  I 
was  of  Duke,  and  of  riding,  —  and  all  the  rest. 
I'll  be  good  now,  and  won't  be  a  baby  again ; 
but  you  won't  go  off  and  leave  us  just  yet, 
will  you  ?  " 

Late  that  same  afternoon,  Mr.  Huntington  was 
sitting  beside  the  bed.  Several  times  since  the 
accident,  he  had  called  to  inquire  for  Danforth, 
and  to-day  the  boy  had  insisted  upon  seeing  him 
for  a  few  moments,  although  as  yet  no  one  but 
the  family  had  been  allowed  to  go  into  his  room. 
Margaret  had  led  the  way  up-stairs,  and  stood 
leaning  on  the  foot  of  the  bed,  watching  the 
young  man  as  he  bent  down  to  speak  to  Danforth, 
with  a  quiet  cheeriness  very  different  from  the 
lugubrious  bedside  manner  assumed  by  too  many 
members  of  his  profession.  All  his  usual  shyness 
had  vanished,  and  he  shared  a  quick  perception  of 


THE   REPEATED   MESSAGE.  319 

the  right  word  to  say  which  made  Margaret  feel 
quite  at  ease,  as  she  went  away  and  left  them 
together. 

After  their  first  greeting,  there  was  a  short 
pause  as  Mr.  Huntington  sat  down  by  the  bed 
and  looked  at  the  face  on  the  pillow  before  him, 
the  same  face  he  had  known  so  well,  only  it 
seemed  to  him  even  more  young  and  delicate  and 
refined,  while  its  pallor  made  the  great  blue  eyes 
look  unnaturally  large  and  dark. 

"  And  they  tell  me  that  you  are  gaining  a  little, 
every  day,"  said  the  young  man  cheerfully. 

"  Yes ;  I'm  ever  so  much  better  than  I  was  at 
first,  and  it's  good  to  see  somebody  again." 

"  I  feel  immensely  honored  at  being  allowed  to 
come  up,"  said  Mr.  Huntington,  with  a  bright 
little  laugh ;  "  but  it  won't  be  long,  I  hope,  before 
you're  round  with  us  once  more." 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Danforth,  with  a 
sudden  gravity.  "I'm  afraid  it  may  be  a  good 
while,  and  maybe,  even  then—  All  at  once, 
he  asked  abruptly,  "  Mr.  Huntington,  just  sup- 
pose you  had  to  stop,  all  of  a  sudden,  just  when 
you  were  in  the  middle  of  everything?  Seems  as  if 
I  shouldn't  have  minded  it  so  much,  a  year  ago ; 
but  now  there  are  so  many  things  I  want  to  do." 


320  MARGAIIET    DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

Mr.  Huntington  understood  him,  without  more 
words. 

"That's  the  hardest  part  of  it  all,  Dan,"  he 
said  quietly.  "  It  takes  more  courage  to  drop 
out  of  the  ranks,  and  sit  down  to  watch  the  rest 
march  by,  than  it  does  to  go  forward  into  the 
fight.  But  sometimes  we  have  to  step  to  one 
side,  for  a  while,  and  let  the  others  go  on  without 
us." 

"  If  it  hadn't  been  just  now,"  said  the  boy  un- 
steadily. "  Ever  since  I've  been  here  in  America, 
I've  had  hard  work  to  keep  on  my  feet.  Things 
went  all  wrong,  somehow,  and  nobody  quite  under- 
stood. Then,  last  fall,  Miss  Davis  came,  and  since 
then  everything  has  seemed  so  much  easier.  I 
don't  know  just  how  'twas;  but  she  gave  me  a 
start  and  helped  me  to  keep  on,  and  I  began  to 
think  I  might  amount  to  something,  after  all. 
College  was  coming,  in  a  little  over  a  year;  but 
now  —  " 

Mr.  Huntington  took  Danforth's  hand  between 
his  own,  and  held  it  firmly. 

"  No  matter  when  it  comes,  Dan,  whether  early 
or  late,  there  is  always  the  same  feeling  that  you 
need  a  little  more  time.  Our  stopping-place  never 
is  found  until  we  are  ordered  to  halt  and  lay  down 


THE   REPEATED    MESSAGE.  321 

our  arms.     Sometimes  we  have  to  lay  them  down 

• 
entirely;  sometimes  we   drop  them,  only  to  take 

up  others,  as  you  may  have  to  do.  It's  useless  to 
say  that,  if  we're  resigned  and  all  that,  it  doesn't 
hurt  us.  The  hurt  is  always  there,  until  we  have 
grown  so  used  to  the  pain  that  we  can  look  under 
it,  and  see  the  good  which  comes  with  it.  But 
that  comes  later ;  now  we  can  only  shut  our  teeth 
and  try  to  bear  it  as  well  as  we  can,  for  courage  is 
one  of  the  first  lessons  we  have  to  learn." 

"  I  know ;  only  it's  so  hard  to  begin,"  said  Dan- 
forth,  looking  up  into  the  kindly  brown  eyes  above 
him,  which  grew  suddenly  sad,  as  Mr.  Huntington 
went  on,  — 

"  We  all  of  us  have  to  begin,  and  to  begin  early, 
Dan.  None  of  us  can  go  through  life  just  as  we 
would  choose ;  but  one  of  us  has  to  give  up  one 
hope,  another  another.  Sometimes  it  takes  all  our 
pluck  to  do  it,  for  our  plans  are  the  very  best 
parts  of  our  lives,  and  often  it  seems  as  if  'twould 
be  easier  to  give  up  life  itself.  But  when  the  time 
comes,  the  courage  comes  with  it,  and  helps  us 
through  even  the  hardest  places.  It  will  come  to 
you,  Dan,  if  you  need  it ;  but  I  hardly  think  you 
will,  just  yet.  From  what  I  can  find  out  about 
you  and  about  what  the  doctor  has  said,  I  think  a 


MAKGAKET    DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

few  weeks  will  see  you  about  as  well  as  ever ;  and 
you  may  be  sure  that  not  one  of  your  friends  will 
be  happier  then  than  I." 

Danforth's  face  had  brightened  during  the  last 
words ;  and,  as  Mr.  Huntington  paused,  the  boy 
looked  up  with  something  of  his  old  smile. 

"•I'm  awfully  glad  you  came  up,  Mr.  Hunting- 
ton,  for  you've  said  just  the  right  thing.  I'll  try 
to  keep  up  my  pluck,  whatever  comes ;  and  maybe 
'twon't  be  so  bad,  after  all.  At  first,  it  seemed  as 
if  I  couldn't  get  out  of  it;  but  now  I'm  not  so 
sure." 

"  Here  comes  Miss  Davis,  and  I  must  run  away," 
said  the  young  man,  rising  as  Margaret  entered 
the  room.  "  I'm  afraid  you'll  wish  Laddie  had 
stolen  my  sermon  again  to-day,"  he  went  on,  with 
a  mischievous  glance  at  Margaret. 

"  How  unkind  of  you  to  suggest  it !  "  she  said, 
blushing,  while  Danforth  laughed  outright.  "  I 
carefully  shut  Laddie  up,  when  I  saw  you  coming 
up  the  hill,  for  fear  he  would  get  into  fresh  mis- 
chief. I  don't  know  about  the  sermon ;  but  you 
have  certainly  done  my  patient  good,"  she  added, 
as  she  saw  the  new  light  in  Danforth's  eyes.  "I 
think  I  can  safely  urge  you  to  come  again." 
x  Mr.  Huntington's  call  certainly  had  done  the 


THE    REPEATED   MESSAGE.  323 

boy  good,  and  for  the  next  few  days  he  gained 
rapidly,  while  he  seemed  to  have  recovered  some- 
thing of  his  former  spirit.  Margaret  was  with 
him  during  the  greater  part  of  the  time,  for 
Grandma  Atherton  was  not  strong  enough  for  the 
long  hours  of  care,  and  Danforth  was  more  than 
satisfied  to  have  Margaret  in  her  place.  Accord- 
ingly, lessons  were  practically  suspended,  and 
except  for  an  hour,  each  morning,  Bobbie  and 
Jack  were  allowed  to  have  a  holiday,  while  their 
tutor  gave  all  of  her  time  and  much  of  her  strength 
to  their  brother. 

Little  by  little,  as  Danforth' s  strength  came  back 
to  him,  his  hopefulness  came  with  it ;  and,  as  the 
days  went  on,  he  could  talk  over  the  future  with 
Margaret,  making  bright  plans  for  his  restored 
health,  or  speaking  of  the  other  possibility  with  a 
quiet  courage  which  roused  in  his  tutor  a  new 
admiration  for  her  boy.  The  long  hours  they  spent 
together  were  not  all  sad  ones ;  and  as  they  passed 
away,  each  one  brought  the  young  woman  and  the 
boy  into  a  closer  friendship  and  understanding 
which  nothing  could  ever  destroy  or  lessen. 

Slowly  the  days  dragged  away  until,  at  length, 
came  the  time  for  the  examination  which  should 
determine  Danforth's  future  life.  All  that  long 


324  MA1IGAUET    DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

morning,  Margaret  never  left  him  ;  but  when  the 
doctor  came,  at  noon,  she  went  away  and  shut 
herself  in  her  own  room,  alone.  It  seemed  as  if 
the  next  half-hour  would  never  end ;  then  she 
heard  the  doctor's  step,  as  he  went  slowly  down 
the  stairs  and  into  the  library  where  Gerald  was 
waiting  for  him.  A  little  later,  she  heard  the 
front  door  shut,  and  the  quick  trot  of  the  horse's 
feet  as  he  hurried  away  down  the  hill.  Then  she 
went  down  to  the  library.  Gerald  stood  opposite 
the  door,  and  one  glance  at  his  face  was  all  she 
needed.  She  sank  into  the  nearest  chair,  and  her 
breath  came  a  little  quickly,  as  she  asked,— 

"  It  is  really  so  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  the  danger  is  over,  and  Dan  will  be  as 
well  as  ever  in  a  comparatively  short  time.  You 
may  tell  him ;  it  is  your  right,  for  you  have  been 
his  faithful  friend." 

Margaret  rose  and  went  over  to  his  side. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said  impulsively,  as  she  held 
out  her  hands  to  him.  "  I  have  meant  to  be  good 
to  our  boy,  as  I  promised  you  ;  and  I  have  found 
it  an  easy  task.  Whatever  came  to-day,  you 
would  have  found  Dan  ready  to  bear  it,  and  I 
know  we  should  both  have  been  proud  of  him." 

Gerald  stood  holding  her  hands  in  his,  while  he 


THE  REPEATED  MESSAGE.         325 

looked  up  into  her  radiant,  flushed  face  and  her 
earnest  eyes.  Then  his  own  eyes  drooped  and, 
letting  go  her  hands,  he  turned  and  walked  away 
to  the  fire,  saying  quietly,  — 

"  Then  you  will  tell'  Dan  ?  " 

The  days  that  followed  were  a  time  of  perfect 
happiness  to  them  all.  Now  that  the  cloud  was 
lifted,  they  realized  more  keenly  than  ever  how 
dark  it  had  been,  and  how  great  was  their  present 
joy,  in  comparison  with  it.  Day  after  day,  the 
spring  came  on  and  ripened  into  summer;  day 
after  day,  Danforth  gained  new  strength  and  new 
interest  in  his  old  life.  Then  came  the  sixteenth 
birthday  of  the  twins.  It  was  a  great  festival  for 
them  all,  for  Danforth  made  his  first  expedition 
down  into  the  old  drawing-room  once  more,  and 
took  his  place  in  the  family  circle  about  the  fire. 
He  was  only  a  ghost  of  the  former  Danforth,  as 
yet,  for  he  had  grown  thin  and  pale  from  his  long 
illness,  and  he  could  walk  but  a  few  steps  at  a 
time,  clinging  to  the  arm  of  Jack  or  Margaret, 
while  Bobbie  followed  him  about,  laden  with 
pillows  and  foot-rests.  Still,  now  that  he  had 
started  on  the  upward  journey,  his  progress  would 
be  rapid,  and  the  doctor  had  promised  them  that 
the  last  of  June  should  find  him  as  strong  as  he 
had  ever  been. 


326  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

It  had  been  agreed  that,  as  soon  as  he  could 
bear  the  journey,  he  should  be  taken  to  the  sea- 
shore for  a  month,  in  the  hope  that  the  salt  air 
would  hasten  his  recovery.  Accordingly,  Gerald 
had  engaged  rooms  in  a  little  cottage,  at  a  summer 
resort  where  the  hotel.*  were  not  yet  opened,  and 
now  they  were  only  waiting  for  the  time  when 
Danforth  could  safely  take  the  long  day's  ride. 

"  I  shall  ask  you  to  go  with  him,  Miss  Davis," 
Gerald  had  said  to  her,  one  evening  after  the  boys 
were  in  bed.  "  Nobody  else  will  be  half  so  good 
for  Danforth ;  and  the  change  won't  hurt  you,  for 
you  have  been  too  devoted  to  the  boy  for  your 
own  good.  Jack  will  go  with  you,  to  run  errands 
and  wait  on  you  both,  and  I  shall  insist  upon  it 
that  you  and  Danforth  do  nothing  more  arduous 
than  sit  in  the  sun  and  make  sand  pies." 

"But  what  about  Bobbie?"  asked  Margaret, 
with  a  momentary  feeling  that  the  present  outlook 
before  her  was  too  blissful  to  be  true,  and  that  she 
must  have  the  drawback  of  Bobbie's  restless  pres- 
ence to  make  up  for  the  perfect  delight  of  a 
month  of  seaside  idleness  with  her  two  boys. 

"  Bobbie  would  be  nothing  but  a  care  for  you, 
and  I'm  afraid  she  would  annoy  Dan,  so  I  shall 
put  her  back  into  school,  to  keep  her  out  of  mis- 


THE   REPEATED    MESSAGE.  327 

chief  till  you  get  home.  You'll  be  down  there  till 
the  middle  of  June ;  then  you  can  come  back  here 
for  two  weeks  and,  if  the  boys  are  in  good  condi- 
tion, you  can  freshen  them  up  for  their  prelimi- 
naries. But,  until  you  do  come  back,  remember 
that  you  are  to  have  no  lessons  at  all."  And  he 
shook  his  head  at  her  warningly. 

During  the  past  three  or  four  weeks,  Hugh 
Thornton  had  called  three  times  at  the  Atherton 
house  ;  but  he  had  not  seen  Margaret  since  the 
memorable  afternoon  when  he  had  brought  Dan- 
forth  home.  At  the  time  of  his  first  call,  Danforth 
had  been  asleep,  and  she  had  given  orders  that  on 
no  condition  was  she  to  be  disturbed ;  and  on  the 
other  occasions,  she  had  been  out  driving  with 
Jack,  for  Gerald  and  Grandma  Atherton  insisted 
upon  her  going  out  for  an  airing,  every  pleasant 
day.  Still,  Hugh  was  not  discouraged.  He  had 
learned  the  truth,  and  now  he  could  afford  to  wait. 

Early  one  evening  in  May,  he  was  crossing  the 
street  near  the  post  office,  when  he  saw  Jack  run 
into  the  building  to  mail  some  letters.  As  the 
boy  came  out,  Mr.  Thornton  met  him  at  the  steps. 

"  How  is  Danforth  ? "  the  young  man  asked, 
although  he  was  secretly  longing  to  hear,  first  of 
all,  from  Dunforth's  nurse. 


328  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"  Better,  ever  so  much  better,"  responded  Jack. 
"  We're  going  down  to  Pleasant  Harbor,  to-mor- 
row morning,  and  the  doctor  says  that  will  set 
him  up  on  his  pins  again." 

"Who  is  going?"  inquired  Mr.  Thornton 
eagerly.  "  All  of  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  only  Dan  and  Miss  Davis  and  I. 
We're  going  down  for  a  month  on  Dan's  account, 
and  because  Miss  Davis  is  pretty  much  tired  out, 
taking  care  of  him.  I'm  going  along  as  a  body- 
guard." 

Mr.  Thornton  bit  his  lip  thoughtfully,  for  a 
moment.  Then  he  said,  — 

"  Jack,  are  you  willing  to  do  me  a  favor,  and 
say  nothing  about  it?  " 

Jack  looked  up  with  a  laugh. 

"  You'd,  better  believe  I  will!  Didn't  you  fish 
me  out  of  the  cellar  and  not  give  it  away?  One 
good  turn,  you  know;  so  come  on.  I'm  your 
man,  and  I  never  tell  tales." 

Mi1.  Thornton  looked  down  into  the  dark,  hand- 
some young  face  before  him. 

"  I'll  trust  you,"  he  said  simply.  "  It's  A  matter 
of  a  good  deal  of  importance,  Jack  ;  and  I  am 
throwing  myself  upon  your  honor  as  a  gentleman. 
Come  and  do  an  errand  with  me,  first  of  all." 


THE   REPEATED   MESSAGE.  329 

He  led  the  way  to  the  nearest  florist's  and  care- 
fully selected  a  great  bunch  of  roses,  whose  green- 
ish white  petals,  just  unfolding,  offered  a  rich 
promise  of  their  future  beauty.  He  watched  them 
while  they  were  being  packed  into  the  box  ;  then 
he  took  out  his  card  and  wrote  a  few  words  on 
the  back  of  it,  but,  with  a  little  frown,  he  crum- 
pled it  in  his  hand,  and  turned  to  Jack  instead. 

"  Now,  Jack,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  as  he  put 
the  box  into  his  hands  ;  "  will  you  give  this  to  Miss 
Davis  to-night,  when  she  is  quite  alone,  and  say  to 
her  that  she  will  know  what  it  means  ?  Say  too, 
please,  that  I  shall  be  at  the  station  in  the  morn- 
ing, when  you  go,  but  that  I  may  not  have  an 
opportunity  to  speak  to  her.  Can  you  remember 
the  message?  Of  course,  you  needn't  say  any- 
thing to  the  others." 

Jack  nodded  in  perfect  comprehension ;  then, 
tucking  the  box  under  his  arm,  he  darted  away  up 
the  street,  at  a  pace  which  endangered  the  necks 
of  the  heavy-headed  roses  within. 

Fully  an  hour  before  time  for  the  train,  next 
morning,  Mr.  Thornton  was  wandering  restlessly 
up  and  down  the  platform  of  the  station,  nervously 
snapping  the  case  of  his  watch,  and  responding 
with  unwonted  curtness  to  the  salutations  of  his 


330  MARGARET    DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

friends,  who  finally  respected  his  evident  desire  to 
be  alone,  and  left  him  to  himself.  A  dozen  times 
he  told  himself  that  he  had  mistaken  the  hour  and 
that  the  train  had  already  gone  ;  but  at  length  he 
saw  the  Atherton  carriage  driving  down  the  hill 
to  the  station,  just  as  a  faint,  distant  whistle  told 
of  the  approach  of  the  Boston  express.  He  re- 
treated to  the  safe  refuge  of  the  baggage-room  and 
peered  anxiously  out  through  the  door-crack,  as 
the  carriage  stopped. 

Jack  leaped  to  the  platform,  followed  by  Gerald, 
and  they  both  turned  to  help  Danforth  out  of  the 
carriage.  Then  came  a  long  succession  of  air 
cushions,  bags,  umbrellas  and  wraps  until  Hugh's 
patience  was  well-nigh  exhausted ;  but  at  last  he 
saw  Margaret  rise  and  step  down  on  the  platform. 
She  had  on  a  light  spring  gown  which  just  matched 
the  color  of  her  hair,  and  although  she  stood  with 
her  face  turned  away,  he  could  see  that  she  was 
looking  unusually  happy  and  bright.  Would  she 
never  get  through  fussing  with  that  everlasting 
boy,  and  turn  around,  he  asked  himself  petulantly. 
Just  then  the  train  came  in,  and,  giving  Danforth 
her  arm,  she  walked  toward  one  of  the  forward  cars. 
As  she  passed  near  his  place  of  concealment,  Hugh 
caught  a  glimpse  of  something  white  at  her  belt. 


THE   HEl'EATEI)    MESSAGE.  331 

Regardless  of  the  crowd  about  him,  he  pushed 
his  way  toward  her.  Just  as  she  was  about  to 
enter  the  car,  she  saw  him  standing  not  far  away, 
and  she  blushed  scarlet  as,  with  a  little  half-uncon- 
scious gesture,  she  pushed  aside  her  jacket,  and 
exposed  to  view  a  great  bunch  of  white  roses 
fastened  into  her  belt.  The  next  moment  he  was 
at  her  side,  and  their  hands  and  eyes  had  met, 
before  the  train  moved  slowly  away  and  left  him 
standing  beside  Gerald,  on  the  empty  platform. 

The  little  man  looked  up  at  him,  with  a  smile  of 
perfect  unselfishness. 

"I  know  what  that  means,"  he  said,  as  he 
offered  his  hand  to  Hugh.  "  I  congratulate  you 
most  earnestly  ;  you  have  won  a  glorious  woman." 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

DOWN    BY   THE   SEA. 

THE  month  that  followed  was  a  happy  one  for 
Margaret  and  the  boys.  The  spring  had  come  on 
early,  that  year ;  and  now,  by  the  middle  of  May,, 
the  weather  was  perfect,  day  after  day  of  clear, 
warm  sunshine  when  Danforth  could  lie  stretched 
out  on  the  sand,  in  sheltered  nooks  of  the  shore, 
and  grow  strong  and  rosy  arid  brown.  After  the 
long  winter  of  study,  followed  by  the  month -of 
anxiety  and  care,  the  lazy,  out-of-door  life  just 
suited  them  all,  and  they  enjoyed  it  to  the  utmost. 

Pleasant  Harbor  was  only  a  long,  curving  stretch 
of  shore,  with  three  or  four  great  hotels  at  one  end, 
and  a  strangely  primitive  little  village  at  the  other. 
At  this  season,  but  one  of  the  hotels  was  open,  and 
since  Danforth  was  as  yet  unable  to  bear  any  ex- 
citement, in  preference  to  its  noisy  rooms  and 
many  stairs,  Gerald  had  hired  quarters  for  them 
in  a  pleasant  cottage  at  the  nearer  end  of  the 
village.  The  place  was  charming,  and  in  it  they 

332 


DOWN    BY   THE   SEA.  333 

could  be  as  free  as  at  the  hotel,  and  as  quiet  as  in 
their  own  home.  Their  landlady,  too,  was  a  char- 
acter in  her  way,  and  the  boys  derived  much 
amusement  from  her  conversation  at  the  table, 
where  she  artlessly  sipped  her  tea  from  her  saucer, 
as  she  told  them  stirring  tales  of  the  old  times 
when  Pleasant  Harbor  was  a  thriving  fishing 
ground,  and  summer  hotels  and  their  inmates  were 
a  thing  unknown. 

Except  at  mealtimes,  they  saw  but  little  of  the 
hospitable  soul,  who  had  put  her  whole  first  floor 
at  their  disposal  and  retired  to  a  little  room  under 
the  roof.  However,  in  some  manner  known  only 
to  himself,  Jack  had  contrived  to  learn  the  way 
to  the  kitchen,  and  to  coax  Mrs.  Larrum  into 
letting  him  have  an  occasional  taste  of  the  goodies 
she  cooked  so  well;  but  Margaret  and  Danforth 
were  content  to  rely  upon  his  accounts  of  the  good 
times  he  had  behind  the  scenes,  and  leave  him  to 
enjoy  them  by  himself. 

Margaret  never  wearied  of  the  long  days  on  the 
shore.  Directly  after  breakfast,  they  used  to  start 
away  from  the  cottage,  Jack  marching  ahead  with 
his  arms  full  of  gay-colored  cushions  and  rugs 
while  Danforth  and  Margaret  followed  more  slowly. 
There  was  one  particular  strip  of  sand,  facing  the 


334  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

south  and  protected  on  two  sides  by  a  high  bluff, 
where  they  liked  best  to  camp,  and  they  spent 
many  a  long  hour  there,  reading  aloud,  talking,  or 
resting  idly  on  their  cushions,  listening  to  the 
dreamy  splash  !  splash  !  of  the  bright  waves  before 
them.  In  this  quiet,  out-of-the-world  existence, 
they  found  a  thousand  things  to  interest  them: 
the  changing  tides  and  the  floating  clouds,  a  pass- 
ing sail,  a  flight  of  sea-birds,  or  a  school  of  por- 
poises tumbling  over  and  over  at  the  surface  of  the 
water.  It  was  pleasure  enough  just  to  feel  the 
sun  beat  down  upon  them,  as  they  leaned  on  their 
elbows  and  let  little  handfuls  of  sand  sift  slowly 
through  their  fingers. 

The  stragglers  from  the  hotel  who  passed  by 
their  little  nook,  soon  learned  to  watch  for  them, 
and  to  exchange  a  smile  of  greeting  with  the 
pretty  young  woman  and  the  tall,  delicate-looking 
boy.  Jack  they  saw  less  often,  for  he  was  too 
restless  and  active  to  stay  with  the  others  for  long 
at  a  time.  By  the  time  he  had  been  three  days  at 
the  cottage,  he  knew  half  the  old  fishermen  of  the 
Harbor,  and  was  made  free  of  their  boats  and  their 
wives'  kitchens.  He  was  as  popular  in  the  one 
place  as  the  other ;  so,  while  his  brother  and  Mar- 
garet spent  their  time  on  the  sand,  he  was  coming 


DOWN    BY   THE    SEA.  335 

and  going,  afloat  and  ashore,  now  dashing  past 
Lhcin  in  a  white-winged  yacht,  now  sliding  down 
the  rocks  back  of  them  and  dropping  down  on  the 
sand  at  their  side,  to  tell  of  his  morning's  adven- 
tures and  share  with  them  the  "nut-cakes"  and 
yarns  which  he  had  collected. 

The  doctor  had  been  even  wiser  than  he  knew, 
when  he  had  ordered  sea-air  for  Danforth.  Each 
day,  the  fresh  breeze  was  bringing  new  strength  to 
the  boy,  whose  cheeks  began  to  fill  out  and  grow 
rosy  and  brown  with  the  sunshine  and  the  simple, 
out-door  life.  Within  an  incredibly  short  time, 
too,  he  could  turn  his  back,  upon  Margaret's  sup- 
porting arm,  and  walk  off  again  with  his  old,  firm 
step,  slowly  at  first  and  only  for  a  little  way,  then 
for  increasing  distances,  until,,  long  before  the 
month  was  over,  he  was  quite  his  old  self  again, 
and  ready  to  join  Jack  in  his  explorations  of  the 
harbor  and  the  village. 

"I  wish  your  uncle  could  see  our  pensive  invalid 
now,  Dan,"  said  Margaret,  one  evening  when  their 
month  was  drawing  to  a  close. 

They  were  out  on  the  piazza  of  the  cottage, 
enjoying  the  warm  twilight  as  it  stole  up  from 
the  sea  before  them.  Margaret  lay  comfortably 
stretched  out  in  the  canvas  hammock,  and  the 


336  MARGARET    DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

two  boys,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  were  pacing  up 
and  down  the  piazza  in  front  of  her.  As  she 
spoke,  Danforth  paused,  with  a  little  laugh. 

"  Why  for  ?  "  he  asked.     "  Is  anything  wrong?  " 

"  No  ;  on  the  other  hand,  it's  very  much  right," 
she  answered  contentedly.  "Do  you  remember 
that  you  couldn't  walk  ten  steps  alone,  when  you 
came  down  here  ?  " 

Danforth  whistled  thoughtfully. 

"  That's  so ;  but  I  can  hardly  believe  it.  Let's 
see,  I've  walked  five  miles  to-day,  and  I  haven't 
had  enough  yet.  Come  down  to  our  corner  and 
see  the  moon  rise,"  he  added  persuasively. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  have  done  enough  for  one  day," 
she  demurred.  "  Aren't  you  too  tired  ?  " 

"  Not  I ;  I'm  not  an  invalid  any  longer.  Don't 
I  look  in  good  condition  ?  " 

"You  certainly  do,"  she  answered,  smiling  up 
at  him.  "  You're  taller  than  Jack  now,  ever  so 
much.  If  you'll  only  broaden  out  a  little,  I  won't 
ask  for  anything  more." 

"  Can't  grow  both  ways  at  once,  even  to  please 
you,"  returned  Danforth,  squaring  his  shoulders 
and  standing  very  erect.  "  But  come  ahead ;  let's 
go  back  to  the  shore  for  an  hour." 

Margaret  rose  and  went  into  her  room  for  her 


DOWN    BY   THE   SEA.  337 

jacket.  As  she  passed  the  table,  she  rested  her 
hand  caressingly  upon  a  little  basket,  heaped  high 
with  white  rose  petals.  Much  as  she  was  enjoying 
her  vacation,  she  almost  longed  to  be  at  home 
once  more.  Letters  were  such  unsatisfactory 
things,  at  best,  and  particularly  so  now,  when  she 
and  Hugh  had  so  much  to  say  to  each  other,  and 
he  was  kept  at  Riverton  by  the  absence  of  his 
president  which  made  it  impossible  for  him  to  be 
away,  even  for  one  day.  Still,  life  was  all  before 
them,  and  she  could  easily  afford  to  give  up  one 
short  month  of  it  for  the  sake  of  Danforth,  who 
was  just  coming  back  into  the  world  once  more. 
She  gave  the  roseleaves  a  gentle  touch,  and  smiled 
happily  to  herself  as  she  went  on  into  the  boys' 
room,  to  get  Danforth's  light  overcoat.  Then, 
throwing  a  scarlet  and  blue  rug  across  her  arm 
and  catching  up  a  little  air-cushion,  she  joined  the 
boys  on  the  piazza  again. 

"  Here  I  am,  bag  and  baggage, '  she  said  gayly, 
as  she  handed  Danforth  his  coat.  "  It's  so  warm 
to-night  that  we  needn't  hurry  back,  so  we'll  take 
the  key,  and  tell  Mrs.  Larrum  that  she  needn't 
sit  up  for  us." 

"  All  right ;  she's  a  sleepy-head,  and  always 
wants  to  go  to  bed  with  the  chickejis,"  said  Dan- 


338  MAKGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOK. 

forth,  as  he  pocketed  the  key  to  the  front  door 
which  opened  directly  into  their  little  parlor. 
"You're  coming;  aren't  you,  Jacky?" 

"By  and  by,"  answered  Jack  from  the  ham- 
mock, where  he  had  taken  Margaret's  place.  "I 
want  to  go  out  and  get  some  more  of  Mother 
Larrum's  doughnuts.  This  sea-air  is  giving  me 
an  appetite  at  last."  And  Jack  sighed  pensively 
at  the  memory  of  his  vast  supper,  two  hours  ago. 
"  I'll  come  down  and  walk  home  with  you,"  he 
added  reassuringly;  "but  I  smell  that  kettle  of 
fat,  and  I  know  there's  something  good  in  the 
wind." 

"Don't  kill  yourself,  there's  a  dear  child," 
urged  Margaret  laughingly,  while  Danforth  put 
on  his  overcoat  and  took  forcible  possession  of 
the  rug.  "  Remember  that  no  mortal  boy  can  eat 
more  than  seven  large  meals  a  day,  and  then 
sleep  the  sleep  of  the  just." 

Down  on  the  shore,  the  high  tide  was  plashing 
up  over  the  sand  in  little,  curling  waves,  and  a 
tiny  track  of  light  across  the  water  led  away 
toward  the  rising  moon.  Far  off  to  the  east,  they 
could  hear  the  throbbing  engines  of  a  distant 
steamer ;  and,  only  a  mile  away,  they  saw  the 
dim  outline  of  a  schooner,  with  the  swaying 


DOWN    BY   THE    SEA. 

lights  at  her  mast-heads.  Margaret  had  settled 
herself  comfortably,  with  her  back  against  a  great 
rock,  and  Danforth,  scorning  the  rug,  had  thrown 
himself  down  on  the  sand  at  her  feet,  with  his 
hands  clasped  under  his  head  and  his  eyes  fixed 
on  the  broadening  path  of  silver  light.  For  a 
long  time  they  were  silent,  enjoying  the  quiet 
beauty  of  the  evening;  but  at  length  Danforth 
broke  the  stillness. 

"It's  just  like  one  night  when  I  was  ill,"  he 
said  thoughtfully.  "I  dreamed  I  was  on  the 
ocean,  in  a  little  boat,  and  the  wind  was  carrying 
me  back  to  India.  I  knew  papa  was  there,  and  I 
wanted  to  see  him ;  but  still  I  dreaded  to  go. 
Then,  all  at  once,  right  up  out  of  the  sea  came 
my  mother's  face,  looking  so  young  and  pretty, 
like  this  picture,  not  as  I  remember  her,  those 
last  few  days.  My  boat  seemed  to  turn  around 
and  follow  her,  and  we  went  on  and  on  till  we 
came  to  the  shore.  She  disappeared  then,  and 
when  I  looked  for  her,  I  couldn't  see  her;  but 
you  stood  on  the  beach,  waiting  for  me  to  land. 
It  made  me  wonder,  somehow,  if  she  \tunted  to 
tell  me  she  was  glad  you  were  here." 

"She  may  have  been  nearer  you  then  we  any  of 
us  knew,"  answered  Margaret  gently,  while  she 


340  MARGARET    DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

looked  down  at  the  boy  at  her  side,  with  a  feel- 
ing of  pity  for  the  young  mother  who  would  have 
had  such  pride  in  her  son. 

The  moon  was  well  up  now,  and  its  white  light 
fell  full  upon  Danforth's  face.  She  studied  it 
Intently  for  a  moment.  It  was  certainly  a  face 
of  which  any  mother  might  be  proud,  —  pure  and 
true  and  gentle,  while  the  experience  of  the  past 
two  months  had  given  it  a  new  character  and 
firmness  which  it  had  always  lacked  before.  Un- 
known to  all  his  friends  but  Margaret,  the  quiet, 
reserved  boy  had  passed  through  a  few  days  of 
bitter  suffering,  had  mastered  his  fears  and  faced 
a  possible  dark  future  with  unfaltering  bravery. 
Hard  as  the  contest  had  been  for  him,  Margaret 
could  not  regret  it  now,  as  she  looked  down  into 
his  face  and  saw  the  new  manliness  written  there. 

"  A  penny  for  your  thoughts,"  Danforth  offered 
her,  with  sudden  lavishness  as  he  rolled  over  and 
met  her  steady  gaze. 

She  laughed  a  little. 

"  I  was  having  a  most  prosaic  thought,  just 
then,"  she  answered ;  "  wondering  whether  it  was 
prudent  to  let  you  lie  here  on  the  ground,  in  this 
way." 

"Why  not?     One  never  catches  cold  in  salt  air 


DOWN    BY   THE   SEA.  341 

or  salt  water,"  he  replied,  as  he  obediently  spread 
out  the  rug  and  rolled  over  on  top  of  it.  "  Don't 
make  me  get  up ;  I'm  too  comfortable,  here  in  the 
moonshine,  and  we  haven't  many  more  nights 
ahead  of  us,  if  we  go  home  next  Monday." 

"  How  are  you  going  to  like  the  idea  of  settling 
down  to  work  again?"  inquired  Margaret. 

"I'm  ready.  If  we  stayed  here,  I'd  never  want 
to  do  anything  again ;  the  waves  make  me  as  lazy 
as  a  salted  codfish.  But  when  we  get  home,  I 
think  I  shall  like  to  go  at  it  once  more.  I  only 
hope  I  don't  flunk  on  the  preliminaries,  though. 
It  will  spoil  all  the  fun,  if  Jack  and  I  don't  go  in 
together." 

"  You'll  pass  easily  enough,"  predicted  Mar- 
garet. "  Two  weeks  will  put  you  in  training 
again,  so  you  needn't  feel  any  anxiety.  Next 
year  we  can  do  a  little  extra  work,  to  make  up 
for  what  we  have  lost,  this  spring." 

"Ship  ahoy!"  called  Jack's  voice;  and  in  an- 
other minute  he  came  strolling  along  the  shore 
and  dropped  down  on  the  sand  at  Margaret's  other 
side,  remarking,  "  You  missed  it  this  time,  sure, 
I've  been  having  a  high  old  feast.  I  helped 
Mother  Larrum  fry,  and  she  paid  me  out  of  the 
dish." 


342  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"  I  should  think  so,"  responded  Margaret,  with 
a  sniff  of  disgust,  for  Jack  had  brought  with  him 
a  suggestive  fragrance  of  hot  fat,  which  was  sin- 
gularly out  of  harmony  with  the  moonlight  and 
the  dreamy  lapping  of  the  waves.  "  I  can't  help 
wishing  that  you  hadn't  come  quite  so  straight 
from  the  kitchen  to  us,  Jack." 

"  Didn't,"  he  answered,  with  his  mouth  full. 
"  I  stopped  at  Captain  Peleg's,  on  the  way,  and 
he  says  the  tide  will  be  right  for  them  to  empty 
the  seine,  early  Monday  morning,  and  don't  we 
want  to  go  ?  He'll  get  us  back  in  plenty  of  time 
for  the  train,  and  you'd  better  try  it,  for  it's  worth 
seeing.  You  know  I  went  out  with  him  once 
before,  when  we  first  came." 

"If  he  will  get  us  back,  and  if  you  don't  die 
of  doughnuts  before  then,"  returned  Margaret, 
laughing.  "If  those  things  were  offered  to  you 
at  the  table  at  home,  you'd  never  touch  them, 
Jack.  What's  the  reason  you  can  eat  them  by  the 
dozen  here  ?  " 

"Don't  you  know  you  can  eat  anything  on  a 
picnic,  even  to  stewed  porgies?"  he  answered 
placidly.  "Besides,  these  aren't  so  bad  as  they 
look,  and  a  fellow  must  have  something  to  keep 
body  and  soul  together." 


DOWN   BY   THE   SEA.  343 

The  last  three  days  of  their  outing  hurried  by, 
and  Monday  morning  found  the  trunks  strapped 
and  waiting  on  the  piazza  of  the  cottage,  ready 
for  the  journey.  Margaret  and  the  boys  had  been 
up  betimes,  and  by  seven  o'clock  they  were  on 
the  beach,  waiting  for  Captain  Peleg  Harding  to 
bail  out  his  clumsy  scow  and  bring  it  up  to  the 
pier.  Captain  Peleg  was  the  oldest  and  toughest 
and  saltest  of  the  Pleasant  Harbor  fishermen.  He 
was  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  leading  aristocrats 
of  the  village,  because  he  was  sole  proprietor  of 
the  great  seine  which  stretched  out,  like  a  giant 
cobweb,  above  the  sandbars,  at  low  tide,  and 
the  Maude  Annabel,  the  massive,  square-ended 
boat  in  which  he  poled  himself  about  the  shal- 
lows. 

For  years,  ever  since  the  hotels  had  been  built 
there,  Captain  Peleg  had  been  persecuted  with 
requests  to  take  the  summer  people  out  to  the 
seine  ;  but  he  had  steadfastly  refused  their  prayers 
and  their  more  substantial  bribes  until,  one  day 
on  the  shore,  he  had  been  attracted  by  Jack's  face 
and  manner,  and  had  invited  him  to  come  on  board 
the  Maude  Annabel.  From  that  time  on,  Captain 
Peleg  and  the  boy  had  been  fast  friends,  and  Jack 
had  passed  many  long  hours  with  the  Captain  in 


344  MARGARET   DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

his  boat,  listening  to  his  marvellous  yarns,  and 
treasuring  them  up  to  repeat  to  his  brother.  It 
had  needed  but  little  coaxing  for  Jack  to  induce 
Captain  Peleg  to  consent  to  take  Danforth  out  to 
the  seine  ;  but  the  old  fisherman  was  not  so  willing 
to  allow  Margaret  on  board  the  Maude  Annabel, 
whose  deck,  he  boasted,  had  never  yet  been  trod- 
den by  a  woman.  However,  at  last  Jack's  en- 
treaties had  carried  the  day,  and  Margaret  was 
to  be  permitted  to  make  the  voyage. 

It  was  a  gray,  misty  morning  when  they  left  the 
house,  and  by  the  time  they  reached  the  pier,  the 
pearly  fog  hung  low  over  the  water,  shutting  out 
the  harbor  and  the  distant  shore.  Through  the 
heavy  mist,  they  could  just  make  out  the  vague 
shape  of  the  Maude  Annabel,  fifteen  feet  away,  and 
of  the  four  men  who  were  bailing  out  the  water 
gathered  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  They  could 
hear  the  splash  of  the  falling  drops,  and  see  the 
last  faint  ripple  of  their  widening  circles.  Then 
came  the  rattle  of  the  oars,  as  the  men  seated 
themselves  and  rowed  slowly  across  to  the  little 
pier,  where  Margaret  and  the  boys  scrambled  on 
board  and  took  their  places  on  the  clumsy  deck 
built  out  over  the  stern. 

"I  told  Jack  to  have  you  wear  your  oilskins, 


DOWN    BY    THE    SEA.  345 

ma'am,"  Captain  Peleg  said,  with  a  disapproving 
glance  at  Margaret's  long,  light  mackintosh.  "  It's 
a  wettish  kind  of  a  place  for  a  woman,  an'  you'll 
get  that  fancy  coat  of  yourn  spotted,  I'm  afraid. 
Sit  down  on  them  coats,  though,  an'  maybe  they'll 
keep  off  some  oii't." 

But  Margaret  had  reassured  him  as  to  her 
mackintosh,  and  then  settled  herself  on  the  scale- 
flecked  deck,  with  a  boy  at  either  hand.  The 
men  took  up  their  oars  again,  and  they  went  glid- 
ing out  into  the  mist. 

Awed  by  their  unaccustomed  guests,  the  fisher- 
men rowed  on  in  silence;  and  the  stillness  was 
only  broken  by  the  dull  creak  and  rattle  of  the 
oars  in  their  locks,  or  by  an  occasional  word  from 
the  boys.  Margaret  herself  felt  no  desire  to  talk. 
It  was  enough  to  watch  the  faces  of  the.  men 
before  her,  and  the  strange,  unreal  light  upon  the 
water,  as  the  shore  slowly  vanished  from  sight  and 
the  mist  shut  down  about  them.  Not  a  breeze 
stirred  the  air ;  not  a  wave  broke  the  glassy  surface 
of  the  water ;  nothing  was  moving  about  them 
but  their  own  rude  craft,  which  seemed  to  be 
bearing  them  away,  out  of  the  world.  On  and  on 
they  went ;  it  might  have  been  for  rods,  it  might 
have  been  for  miles,  for  there  was  no  way  to 


346  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

measure  their  course  as  they  drifted  on,  like  a 
phantom  ship  upon  an  unknown  sea. 

At  length,  a  line  of  poles  loomed  up  through 
the  mist.  A  moment  later,  the  men  dropped  their 
oars,  as  the  scow  floated  up  to  the  great  round 
pocket  of  the  seine.  Their  passage  through  dream- 
land was  ended,  and  they  had  suddenly  come  back 
again  into  the  waking,  workaday  world. 

The  Maude  Annabel  had  scarcely  stopped,  when 
Captain  Peleg  leaped  into  the  little  boat  trailing 
at  her  side,  and  went  rowing  away  around  the 
outer  edge  of  the  pocket,  unhooking  the  net  from 
the  poles  and  gathering  it  up,  little  by  little,  into 
his  boat,  while  the  fish  went  sliding  and  tumbling 
along,  nearer  and  nearer  the  scow.  Frightened 
and  confused  as  their  trap  grew  more  and  more 
narrow  and  crowded,  they  were  frantically  swim- 
ming against  each  other,  twisting  and  turning 
and  lashing  the  water  into  a  white  foam ;  while 
slowly  but  surely  the  captain  gathered  up  mesh 
after  mesh  of  the  net,  slowly  but  surely  brought 
his  boat  closer  and  yet  more  close  to  the  Maude 
Annabel's  side.  Then,  when  they  lay  huddled 
together  in  a  dense,  throbbing  mass,  the  men  bent 
over  to  dip  up  great  basketfuls  of  them  and  throw 
them,  bluefish  and  whitefish,  bass  and  shad,  the 


DOWN    BY   THE   SEA.  347 

strange,  balloon-like  toad-fish,  the  beautiful  sea- 
robin  and  the  spotted  squid,  all  into  one  vast,  rest- 
less pile  in  the  bottom  of  the  scow.  There  they 
lay,  floundering  and  panting,  by  hundreds  and 
by  thousands,  until  little  by  little  their  struggles 
ceased  and  all  was  still.  But,  long  before  that 
time  had  come,  Margaret  had  turned  away,  sick- 
ened at  the  sight  before  her,  which  seemed  to  her 
like  a  blot  upon  the  dreamy  beauty  of  the  morning. 
If  only  that  writhing  mass  would  come  to  rest ! 

Then  came  the  rapid  sorting  of  the  fish,  when 
all  hands  fell  to  work,  counting  out  baskets  of 
whitefish  and  emptying  them  into  the  dory  which 
had  come  alongside  from  a  fishing  schooner,  down 
the  bay;  throwing  back  the  sea-robins  and  the 
toad-fish,  and  piling  the  squids  into  the  basket  of 
the  all-devouring  Italian  who  had  rowed  over  from 
the  next  town.  At  length,  when  only  the  larger, 
choicer  fish  remained,  Captain  Peleg  gave  a  short, 
sharp  command,  the  men  went  back  to  their  oars 
and  rowed  away  through  the  fast-lightening  mist. 
By  degrees,  the  shore  came  into  view  again,  first  a 
mere  dark  line  through  the  pale  fog,  then  more  and 
more  distinct  until,  just  as  they  reached  the  pier, 
the  mist  vanished  before  a  glad  burst  of  sunshine. 

Their  month  by  the  seashore  was  ended. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

JUNE   ROSES. 

PLEASANT  as  the  last  few  weeks  had  been,  the 
old  Atherton  house  looked  very  attractive  to  the 
three  travellers,  as  they  drove  up  the  hill,  that 
same  evening,  for  bright  lights  gleamed  out  from 
every  window,  and  Grandma  Atherton  stood  wait- 
ing in  the  porch,  to  welcome  them  back  once 
more.  Then  came  the  usual  babel  of  greeting, 
of  question  and  answer,  while  they  all  exclaimed 
at  the  improvement  in  Danforth,  who  was  ruddy 
and  brown  as  never  before,  or  laughed  at  the 
vivid  coat  of  sunburn  on  Jack's  cheeks  and  nose. 
But  when  Gerald  led  the  way  into  the  dining- 
room  where  a  late  supper  was  awaiting  them, 
Grandma  Atherton  drew  Margaret  aside  for  a 
moment,  while  she  whispered,  — 

"  Gerald  has  told  me,  dear.  Forgive  an  old 
woman  for  speaking  too  soon,  perhaps ;  but  we 
are  all  so  glad." 

Promptly  enough,  they  settled  back  into  their 
348 


JUNE  HOSES.  349 

well-remembered  routine,  the  next  morning.  There 
was  much  to  be  done  in  the  coming  two  weeks, 
and  the  boys  were  anxious  to  be  at  work  once 
more,  to  lose  no  chance  of  passing  their  dreaded 
examinations.  Bobbie  would  gladly  have  joined 
them  again  ;  but  Gerald  had  decided  that  it  would 
be  better  for  her  to  finish  the  term  in  school,  so 
that  Margaret  might  be  free  to  give  all  her  time 
to  the  boys.  Next  fall,  they  might  return  to 
their  old  ways  once  more. 

However,  there  was  one  drawback  to  Margaret's 
perfect  content,  in  these  warm  June  days.  On 
her  return,  she  had  found  awaiting  her  a  note 
from  Hugh,  saying  that  he  was  unexpectedly 
called  away  upon  business,  and  might  not  come  back 
in  time  to  see  her  before  she  left  Iliverton  for  the 
summer.  It  was  a  bitter  disappointment  to  Mar- 
garet who  had  been  eagerly  looking  forward  to 
their  meeting,  to  the  long,  quiet  talk  which  they 
could  have  at  last,  when  she  could  explain  all 
the  mistake  which  had  come  between  them, 
months  ago.  Now  she  must  wait  again,  perhaps 
until  Hugh's  vacation  gave  him  an  opportunity 
to  see  her  in  her  own  home.  It  was  useless  to  try 
to  write  it  all ;  she  would  prefer  to  wait. 

All  too  soon  the  next  few  days  hurried  by,  and  the 


350  MAEGABET   DAVIS,    TUTOE. 

last  night  of  her  year  at  Riverton  had  come.  It 
had  been  a  warm,  bright  day,  and,  after  their  late  din- 
ner, Margaret  and  Danforthhad  taken  advantage  of 
the  long  June  twilight  to  stroll  down  through  the 
town,  and  on  to  the  rocky  ledge  by  the  basin, 
where  they  had  sat,  months  ago,  and  talked  of 
the  boy's  mother.  Though  neither  of  them  had 
spoken  of  that  day,  it  had  seemed  quite  natural 
to  them  both  that  their  last  evening  together 
before  the  vacation  should  be  spent  in  the  spot 
where  they  had  first  really  known  and  understood 
each  other. 

The  sun  was  sinking  toward  the  horizon  as 
they  reached  the  place,  and  instinctively  they 
dropped  down  into  their  old  positions,  and  watched 
it  for  a  moment  in  silence.  Then  Danforth 
spoke. 

"  It  has  been  a  jolly  year,"  he  said  thoughtfully. 
"Next  year  will  be  even  better,  though,  for  we 
shan't  have  to  waste  any  time  in  getting  ac- 
quainted, as  we  did  last  fall.  We  can  start  right 
in,  as  soon  as  you  get  back.  When  are  you  com- 
ing, anyway  ?  " 

"By  the  middle  of  September,"  she  answered. 
"  We  always  spend  August  in  the  hills,  and  I 
must  have  a  few  days,  after  I  get  home.  Still,  I 


JUNE  ROSES.  351 

shall  come  up  earlier  than  I  did  last  fall,  so  that 
we  can  make  up  for  our  lost  time,  this  spring." 

"  Bobbie  has  been  in  a  state  of  mind,  ever  since 
we  came  home,"  observed  Danforth  with  a  laugh. 
"  She  thinks  she's  not  in  it,  because  she  had  to 
stay  in  school,  instead  of  working  with  us.  I 
wonder  when  she'll  get  into  college,  anyway." 

"  At  present  rate  of  progress,  not  until  two 
years  after  you  and  Jack  do,"  replied  Margaret, 
as  she  leaned  back  against  the  rock  and  looked  up 
at  the  setting  sun.  "  I'm  not  sorry,  for  she  is 
young  for  her  age,  and  it  won't  hurt  her  to  settle 
down  a  little,  before  she  starts  off  into  the  world 
on  her  own  account." 

"  Have  you  heard  the  latest,  that  Pen  wants  to 
go,  too?"  inquired  Danforth,  with  an  amused 
expression  in  his  blue  eyes.  "  She  says  she  can't 
make  up  her  mind  whether  to  be  a  doctor  and  go 
as  missionary  to  the  Turkeys,  or  to  adopt  an 
orphan.  Fancy  Pen  in  either  business ! "  And 
he  laughed  disrespectfully. 

"Pen  did  her  best  to  adopt  you,  last  winter," 
suggested  Margaret,  with  a  smile. 

"'Twas  about  an  even  thing  which  had  it 
worst,"  admitted  Danforth  candidly.  "I  had  the 
worst  of  it,  though,  the  last  day  I  took  her  out 


352  MARGARET    DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

with  Duke,  for  something  had  rubbed  her  the 
wrong  way,  and  she  trampled  all  over  me.  Pen 
can  be  a  dear ;  but  when  she's  cross,  you'd  better 
stand  from  under." 

Margaret  was  saved  from  the  necessity  of 
replying  to  this  philosophical  young  lover,  for 
she  had  caught  the  sound  of  a  quick  footstep 
coming  along  the  path  from  the  bridge,  and,  the 
next  moment,  she  had  sprung  up,  with  a  little 
glad  outcry. 

"  Hugh ! " 

"  Peggy ! "  And  to  the  horror  of  the  unsus- 
pecting boy  on  the  rocks  below,  Mr.  Thornton's 
arm  encircled  Margaret's  waist,  and  her  head 
rested  against  his  shoulder. 

For  a  moment,  Dan  forth  stared  up  at  the 
picture  above  him,  at  a  loss  to  comprehend  its 
meaning.  Then  a  sudden  light  dawned  upon 
him,  and  slipping  down  over  the  rocks,  he  strolled 
off,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and  his  cap 
cocked  defiantly  askew  on  the  extreme  back  of  his 
head. 

"  Forgive  me  for  taking  you  so  by  surprise," 
Hugh  was  saying,  a  little  later,  as  they  sat  there 
in  the  gathering  twilight.  "  I  only  came  in  on 
the  six  o'clock  train,  and  I  went  right  up  to  the 


JUNE   ROSES.  353 

house,  but  they  said  you  had  gone  out  with  Dan. 
Bobbie  suggested  that  this  was  a  favorite  walk 
with  you  both,  so  I  thought  I'd  take  the  chances, 
and  come  on  after  you."  He  paused ;  then  he 
added,  in  a  lower  tone,  "  Oh,  Peggy,  after  all  this 
time,  it  seems  almost  too  good  to  be  true." 

She  turned  and  looked  up  at  him. 

"Hugh,"  she  began;  "I've  something  I  must 
tell  you,  something  you've  never  understood.  Do 
you  remember  that  night  at  Mrs.  Sutherland's, 
ever  so  long  ago  ?  " 

He  nodded  silently,  while  a  little  look  of  pain 
crossed  his  face. 

"  That  was  all  a  dreadful  mistake.  The  flowers 
came,  but  the  card  was  left  out ;  it  didn't  reach 
me  until  I  had  gone  home,  after  the  reception." 

"  What  ? "  And  Hugh  started  up,  in  quick 
indignation. 

"  Yes ;  it  was  all  through  somebody's  careless- 
ness, and  if  we  hadn't  both  come  up  here,  we 
should  never  have  known  —  " 

"  And  if  you  had  known,  if  the  card  had  come, 
you  would  have  worn  the  roses  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  gently.  "  I  was  ready  to 
wear  them  then." 

There  was  a  pause.  Then  Hugh  asked  sud- 
denly, — 


354  MARGARET  DAVIS,   TUTOR. 

"  But  why  didn't  you  tell  me  before  ?  " 

"  How  could  I  ? "  she  replied.  "  You  went 
away,  and  left  no  address  with  anyone.  How 
was  I  to  find  you  ?  " 

"But  after  we  were  up  here?"  he  urged. 
"  That  first  night  at  the  Athertons',  when  you 
ran  away  from  me  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't,"  she  answered  simply.  "  After  all 
that  time,  how  could  I  be.  sure  that  you  still 
cared?" 

"Peggy,  dear,"  he  asked  slowly,  as  he  looked 
straight  down  into  her  eyes ;  "  did  you  ever  really 
doubt  it?" 

"  No,"  she  said  with  a  little,  happy  gesture,  as 
she  let  her  hand  fall  on  his.  "  No,  I  never  did." 

"  But  what  became  of  Dan  ?  "  she  asked,  after  a 
short  silence.  "  He  was  here,  only  a  minute  ago." 

Hugh  laughed,  as  he  pointed  into  the  valley 
below,  where  they  could  see  a  boyish  figure  wan- 
dering aimlessly  up  and  down  the  dusty  road. 

*"  I'm    afraid   I    drove    him    off,"    he  answered. 
"Shall  I  call  him?" 

"Do,  please.  Dan  must  be  the  first  one  to 
congratulate  us,  for  he  really  brought  us  together 
again." 

At   Hugh's    ringing    call,  the  boy  turned  sud- 


JUNE   ROSES.  355 

denly  and  came  scrambling  up  the  rocks  to  his  old 
position. 

"  Well,  I  must  say  you're  a  sly  pair,"  was  his 
first  salutation.  "  I'd  just  like  to  know  when  you 
settled  the  matter." 

"It  was  all  settled  long  ago,"  said  Margaret, 
with  a  laughing  glance  at  Hugh.  "  We  were 
only  waiting  for  a  new  set  of  roses  to  blossom, 
before  we  told  anybody  else." 

"But,  I  say,"  objected  Danforth  suddenly; 
"  this  is  going  to  upset  everything,  all  round ; 
isn't  it?" 

"Not  a  bit,"  replied  Hugh  promptly.  "It's 
going  to  set  everything  right." 

"  No ;  but  I  mean  you'll  be  carrying  Miss  Davis 
off,  before  we're  through  with  her,"  persisted  Dan- 
forth. "  We  can't  stand  that,  you  know." 

"You  needn't  worry,  Dan,"  she  reassured  him. 
"  I  shall  refuse  to  be  carried  off,  just  yet.  I  have 
promised  to  put  you  and  Jack  into  college,  and  I 
shall  keep  my  word,  so  Mr.  Thornton  will  have 
to  wait." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  my  consent,"  he  replied, 
with  mock  dignity.  "  I  may  assert  my  authority, 
unless  you  hurry  into  Yale  next  fall.  When  do 
your  exams,  begin?" 


356  MARGARET   DAVIS,    TUTOR. 

"  Day  after  to-morrow,"  Danforth  answered,  as 
he  possessed  himself  of  Margaret's  other  hand. 
u  We're  all  going  down,  to-morrow  morning ;  and 
Jack  and  I  are  to  stay  a  week  with  Miss  Davis, 
before  we  come  back." 

"  Happy  Jack  and  happy  you  !  "  said  Hugh  en- 
viously. "  You  two  boys  have  been  taking  al- 
together too  much  of  Miss  Davis's  time,  lately. 
Still,  I  shall  have  to  put  up  with  it ;  for  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  you,  we  mightn't  have  been  sitting  here 
together."  And  he  smiled  at  Danforth's  mystified 
face. 

The  twilight  had  quite  fallen  now,  and  the  stars 
were  slowly  corning  out,  in  the  deep  blue  sky 
above  them.  Down  in  the  valley  at  their  feet,  the 
lights  were  twinkling  in  the  windows  of  the  lonely 
farm.  All  around  them,  the  languid  night  air  was 
fragrant  and  heavy  with  the  masses  of  wild  roses 
on  the  banks  above.  Hugh  leaned  back,  and  broke 
off  a  few  pink  blossoms  from  the  nearest  bush. 

" '  Roses  red  and  roses  white 

Plucked  I  for  my  love's  delight,' " 

he  quoted  softly,  as  he  placed  them  in  her  yellow 
hair.  "  They  are  our  flowers,  Peggy  ;  and  next 
June  we  will  prove  it  to  all  the  world." 


JUNE    ROSES.  357 

Just  then  there  came  a  sound  of  rustling  and 
rushing  along  the  path,  and,  the  next  instant, 
Laddie  leaped  upon  them,  frisking  about  and  bark- 
ing a  mad  welcome.  Jack  followed  him  in  a  more 
leisurely  fashion,  and  was  close  by  their  side 
before  he  recognized  Hugh  through  the  gathering 
darkness.  Then  he  cast  one  comprehensive  glance 
upon  the  group,  upon  Margaret's  radiant  face, 
upon  the  roses  in  her  hair  and  in  Hugh's  hand; 
and  he  gave  a  long,  low  whistle. 

"  Jupiter  Ammon  and  his  children  !  "  be  ejacu- 
lated, with  classic  fervor.  "  So  the  roses  did  the 
business  ;  did  they  ?  " 


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